Storm of War
by Blackheart2
Summary: Nope, not gonna get this done by New Year's...
1. Chapter 1

wDISCLAIMER: I do not own Vandread or any of its characters. Gonzo does.

Author's note: Please feel free to drop a review. All honest comments, suggestions, complaints accepted. If you wish for me to respond to a question you put in a review, please either sign in or leave your email address. Also please state that you want a reply. Thanks!

Storm of War 

Chapter 1: Crisis

"Gascogne, what's the status?" 

"No worries. I wish that we had the time to pick up supplies ourselves, but since the boss wants to get a move on as fast as we can, I suppose it's permissible to allow outsiders to do the work for me." Gasco winked at the stern-faced assistant commander. 

BC was not amused. As always, she was focused only on her work, and with the presence of unknown people onboard the Nirvana, she was more paranoid than usual. 

"I still think we should have slowed down and picked up the order ourselves rather than having it delivered."

"Lighten up a little. There's nobody that'll be able to pull anything off here and get away in that old clunker." The chief of the Register motioned towards the delivery ship with an almost contemptuous air.

At that same moment, a man was walking past, burdened by a heavy crate. Neither of them noticed him smile at the comment.

Inside the cargo ship, the captain glanced at a man standing beside him.

"How much longer left?"

"Only about an hour before the last supplies are unloaded. We could've done it faster, but they were a bit reluctant to help out. Everyone shirked the job, instead letting our deliverymen do the work."

"Only an hour… we've been here for two already. Has it been long enough yet?"

"Yes. Renard and the others are in position. We were holding off only so that Kyra could take another look around."

"She's got 15 minutes more. Then we execute if it's feasible, understand?"

"I'll relay the message."

Hibiki frowned darkly. 

"Keep that thing away from me!"

Dita looked at the alien hat in her hands, then pouted. 

"Oh, come on! Dita made this hat especially for Hibiki to wear!"

"I don't want anything with a UFO on it! Take it away!"

Dita looked hurt.

"You don't like Dita's present?"

"Uh…" Hibiki spun suddenly, seeing something odd and using the opportunity to full effect. "Hey buddy, what are you doing here?"

He was directing his words toward one of the deliverymen, who was standing in front of Hibiki's Vanguard.

He turned, blinking. "Oh, sorry. Just never saw anything like it before."

"Well that's my partner. No one but me can touch it, understand?" 

"Sure, man. Whatever you say."

Hibiki continued to frown as the man walked past. Dita looked at him.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nah. He just seemed kinda… pretty, for a man."

"What?"

"Uh…nothing." Hibiki felt like hitting himself in the head. _What a stupid comment!_

Several large crates stacked within the cargo ship that were supposed to be for another delivery suddenly shattered, revealing a large group of silvery, insectoid machines. They darted out and into the bay, scattering the techs and Register workers who were helping supervise. Most headed for the door, except for one that aimed right at a group of shocked crewmembers who were on guard. Once it was close enough, it exploded, sending shrapnel raining amongst them. The entire group was down immediately. Gasco and BC spun to see the cargo ship disgorging a large number of heavily armed and armored soldiers who immediately laid down a long barrage of fire. All the Nirvana crewmembers remaining leaped for cover. Most didn't make it, and even those who did died as powerful high-caliber shots tore through most everything. After the initial salvo, the invading troops rushed out of the various doors, heading off on assigned missions.

The machines rampaged down corridors, hunting down guards posted in the most vital sections of the ship and self-destructing practically on top of them. They were followed by squads of invaders who rushed everywhere, securing corridors and randomly gunning down any resistance they encountered. What few crewmembers had enough wits to join together and fight back were severely overmatched. Mostly unarmored and armed only with their laser-projecting rings, they were vastly outgunned and hampered by their consideration for collateral damage. The invaders, on the other hand, seemed to consider any damage that did not breach the ship's hull perfectly acceptable, and often employed weapons that spat high-explosive projectiles, usually laying waste to any areas where the Nirvana's crew managed to establish a defensible position. Other equipment such as fusion lasers that sliced through bulkheads and walls or powerful flamethrowers capable of filling an entire hallway with waves of plasma-hot fire were also employed liberally. 

The pirates were trained to board other ships to retrieve loot, but they had no real tactics to defend against boarders, and with squads of soldiers split up, there was no organization or leadership whatsoever. The defense quickly disintegrated into a complete rout, all discipline eroded by the complete destruction of all who attempted to bar the invaders' way. What was even more eerie to the ones who stopped to think it over was the fact that the enemy all seemed to know where they were going.

Hibiki was trying to figure out what was going on. They'd been hearing explosions for a while, and distant gunfire that was steadily getting closer. As much as he wanted to go out and get some information, he had no desire to get shot, either. He was also worried about taking Dita out into what seemed to be a battlefield. 

"Gragghh… what to do?" The Vanguard pilot glanced up suddenly, seeing the door slide open again. The same deliveryman whom he'd seen a while ago entered again, holding a clipboard.

"Hey, you again? What's going on?"

He smiled, then whipped off a cap, revealing a downfall of silken black hair. The face that had seemed so out of place on a man suddenly looked perfectly at home on a strikingly beautiful woman. Hibiki had no idea how, but she even seemed to change shape and figure.

The stunned pilot began to open his mouth but she was already moving, snapping the clipboard in two. It appeared to have been made that way, as she was suddenly holding a razor-edged plastic knife that went straight into Hibiki's gut. He doubled over in agony before she jerked her hand violently. He felt a sudden stab of pain, and through a red haze that suddenly filled his vision, he saw her holding a broken-off piece of plastic. Then he saw nothing.

Dita stared in shock, then ran forward towards Hibiki. However, she was intercepted by the unknown woman. Dita was no fighter and fell immediately to a single swift blow. Looking somewhat amused, the woman began to turn away, then ducked a second before a laser would have gone through her skull. She somersaulted backwards and sprang aside as Meia tried another shot. The Dread leader cursed as she missed again, then was forced to give up shooting and defend herself as her opponent attacked. 

The two circled each other, trading blows and looking for an opening. Meia ducked and cursed as another punch almost caught her square in the face. She retaliated viciously, trying to exploit the only chink she could find in her opponent:  the fact that the other woman was openly overconfident. 

Thinking quickly, the blue-haired pilot allowed the next blow to connect, while twisting herself so she took the least amount of shock possible. It was a good shot, but nowhere near enough to put her down. However, she dropped to the floor instead. As she'd hoped, her opponent immediately sprang forward, hoping to put an end to the battle. Meia smoothly rolled out of the way, bringing up her hand in the same motion. The woman practically impaled herself on her fist, jerking and falling back with a gasp. Meia was on top of her almost immediately, striking hard and fast. She caught her on the cheek with a vicious right, in the midsection with a quick follow up, and then straight in the sternum with the next. As the woman sagged, she followed up with a devastating spinkick that hurled her into the wall. 

Meia stepped forward again to make sure her adversary was down, suddenly she felt something like a lightning bolt strike her skull. She dropped to the ground, trying to keep alert and ignore the flashes behind her eyelids. She tasted blood in her mouth.

The woman was trying to get up, pushing against a gantry for support. A man's figure walked past Meia's prone body and moved to her, offering a hand for support. Meia dimly heard more footsteps entering the Vanguard bay. 

"Commander Renard?" 

Meia heard the name, forced herself to focus on the woman, who had gotten back to her feet. 

"Kyra, you were supposed to be doing recon, not trying to capture the main objective by yourself."

"I…I'm sorry."

"Never mind. The mission's almost complete. You'd better not wander anywhere. She got you good."

"I want her, damn it. No one treats me like that and lives to brag about it."

"Enough of that. You're in no shape to be killing anyone."

The man who was evidently named Renard moved to the side, overseeing his soldiers. Meia swallowed and tried to get up when she realized that they were removing restraints and preparing Hibiki's Vanguard and the three Dreads that it could combine with for transport. However, her muscles refused to cooperate, and she could only lie there.

_Damn it, is this all that I can do?_

Magno's eyes flashed. Dozens of screens over the bridge showed feedback of the ship's surveillance cameras. She saw what the invaders were doing but was powerless to do anything about it. Her crew was divided and scattered everywhere, and all attempts to resist had failed. BC, who had fortunately returned from the bay before the attack began, was still trying to coordinate some kind of defense, but was failing to rally anyone. Kill teams of enemy soldiers were everywhere, holding most of the ship's major passages while others moved about on specific missions over the ship. 

"BC, how is it going?"

"No good. Barnette and Jura have gotten survivors and wounded into the infirmary, but they're under siege. The enemy doesn't seem to be interested in actually getting in and finishing them off, but they're making sure that no one gets out, either. Gascogne and her workers are holed up too, along with just about everyone else on the ship who's still alive."

"They caught us completely unprepared. How could they have known this much about us?"

A group of invaders burst into Engineering. Parfet and her subordinates were herded into a corner while one man strode to the panel and began working. After a few moments, he stepped back and opened a comlink.

"Renard, what the hell have you put me up to now? I've never seen any systems like this before!"

"From our data, I've heard that may not be out of the question. Just copy down everything you can get." The commander's cool voice came back over the link.

"Fuck it, no one ever explains anything to me! You all just give me orders and expect me to carry them out…" Even while the technician crabbed, he was already loading data into a data core he'd brought. When he was done, he quickly typed a few more commands and chuckled wickedly as the words 'VIRUS UPLOADING' appeared on the screen. Snatching up his equipment, he gestured to his men.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

The 'delivery ship' burst out of the Nirvana's docking bay, revealing its tattered outer image to be no more than a clever deception. Powerful, state-of-the-art engines quickly brought it to the outside of the Vanguard bay, which had been opened by the attackers. A few minutes was all that was necessary for the invaders to get aboard, bringing the Vanguard, the three Dreads, and the data core with them. Two minutes later, they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Vandread or any of its characters. Gonzo has sole rights to them.

Author's note: Please review!

Chapter 2: The Hunt

The Nirvana was floating helplessly in space, engines disabled by a potent computer virus uploaded into the system by a group of unknown attackers. And that was their smallest problem.

"Clear the doorway! We have injured coming through!" A group of crewmembers with nothing else to do hauled another stretcher into the crowded infirmary. Duero and Paiway were working on the most badly injured while others used first aid to patch up the more fortunate ones. Duero finished a hasty operation on one patient only to have his hands full with yet another. He'd been working for several hours straight and was starting to worry that exhaustion would start dulling his senses, causing him to make a deadly mistake on any one of the various procedures he had to perform. However, there was no other option. Without any other skilled medical personnel onboard who were capable of relieving him, he had no choice but to continue. _I have to do this. These people's lives are in my hands…_

An emergency meeting of all senior (or at least important) personnel on the ship was underway. It was taking place in Magno's 'office' of sorts, the same place where she'd met Rabat several years ago. The mood was bleak, with everyone pushed close to the breaking point.

"Gascogne! How far along are you on the cleanup program?"

"We won't be done for a long time. Those guys weren't worried about what they might break. We've got debris and all kinds of internal damage everywhere. On the good side, at least my crew has finally managed disarming the last of the laser mines they scattered in the hallways as they retreated."

Meia shook her head. "Until another crewmember happens to wander into one."

Gascogne glared at her. "Hey. Watch it. My people are doing the best they can."

The Dread pilot did not respond, but gave Gasco a dark look. She was wearing a bloodstained bandage around her head, and did not appear to be doing well. However, she only snapped at people who suggested that she allow Duero to take a look at the injury. 

Magno frowned. "Now isn't the time to bicker among ourselves. We have more important concerns. First, who are these people? And how did they know so much about us? And what are they going to do with the Dreads and the data they stole?"

Barnette scowled angrily. "We don't know anything about them. We don't even know who they are! Damn it! Why'd they choose to attack us?"

BC shook her head. "They obviously wanted the Nirvana's technical data as well as the power of the Vandreads. If we want to find out more, though, we'll have to dig up information on these people…" 

Gasco grinned. "We won't have to bother. As a precaution, I decided to put a tracer on their ship. We can follow them… if the engines were working."

Meia looked up. "We can't afford to give them any more of a head start. We have to devise another plan to get after them as quickly as possible." 

Magno frowned heavily, inspecting her Dread leader more carefully. Meia was never the hasty sort…

"No. These people, whoever they are, have already shown us they are extremely dangerous. I won't allow the crew to be split in an attempt to take back what they stole; it's just too risky."

The blue-haired Dread leader considered it. "We could use Gascogne's supply ship to simply locate and follow them until the Nirvana is ready. We can't allow them to get away."

Magno sighed, suddenly feeling every one of her years pressing down on her shoulders. "All right… I'll put you in charge of it. Take anyone you need."

Meanwhile, within the main raider ship was a scene of organized chaos. A technician had attempted to activate one of the stolen machines, but it had gone out of control, careening into the far wall. A crew was now attempting to remove it from the smoking hole, and the other machines had been heavily restrained to keep anything like that from happening again.

Above the bay where the stolen fighters were being kept, a man stood watching. He was old, with gray hair and a face lined by years of a stressful calling, but he still had straight shoulders and an unbent back. He was Conrad Kurtz, the commander of what had once been the Valkoris 1st, the proudest, most decorated unit from the defense force of the planet Valkoris IV. That had been in the past; now their planet was under the sway of an alliance of neighboring systems who had invaded theirs, intent on conquest. The 1st had fought until they were alone within the shattered ruins of what had been the capital of their home, and in the end Conrad had ordered the retreat. Throwing away the lives of his remaining soldiers for nothing more than foolish pride had been too much to ask from him.

Now, though, he was wondering whether or not his choice had been correct. His soldiers were reduced to common mercenaries, hired dogs fighting at the command of their masters. Worse, he also knew that the men hated it; after being raised in the military of Valkoris, they had grown to adopt the virtues of honor and duty taught to them throughout their training. Now they were little more than pirates, attacking people who had done them no harm and fighting even for tyrants that they would just as soon overthrow.

"Commander."

Conrad turned around to see his captain standing behind him. Renard Gilchrist, formerly a full Captain in the Valkoris defense force; now known unofficially as the Stone Soldier by his men. Their joking referral to him was not a sign of disrespect, however; it was a sign of camaraderie and familiarity. Renard almost never cracked a smile, in part because a close range brush with a flamethrower had damaged some of his facial nerves. The upper left side of his face was horribly scarred from the encounter, and his natural eye had been replaced with a bionic replacement with an additional infrared scanner that made it glow a baleful, red color. Needless to say, very few men or women could match him in a staring contest.

"Yes?"

Renard shifted slightly. "Are we actually going to go through with this?"

"Naturally. We were paid to acquire the equipment and data and we have. Now we hand it over and collect our money. It's none of our business what happens to it after that."

"So we attack a ship, kill everything in our way, and steal their craft." 

"They were _pirates_, Renard."

"And what are we, then?"

"… Mercenaries."

If it was possible, Renard's face grew even grimmer than usual. "Very well, Commander. If we happen to start a new war with this act, it'll only mean more work, won't it?" 

The Stone Soldier turned his back and walked away. Kurtz sighed. He was now feeling very keenly the lethargy that had led to his men nicknaming him the Old Man. 

_Bloody hell… have we dropped this far?_

Renard walked into a ready room, heading straight for the bar. A moment later, he'd gulped down two drinks in a row. _Damn it all…_

He could still remember that ship, the desperate faces of the crewmembers as his men stormed through it in an unstoppable tide. They may have been pirates, but the information they had bought from a ranking Tarak government official showed they were not the cutthroat sort he'd have had no problems dispatching.

Killing people had always had been a distasteful duty for him, although he had always been able to remind himself in the past that the deaths were for the good of his home, that he was protecting his people by fighting. Now he could only tell himself that it was for the good of the unit, that the soldiers needed something to do with themselves after their banishment. Only the determination to see his men through every battle had sustained him through the vicious campaigns they had fought in as mercenaries. Now, though, it was all disappearing… they were no longer warriors, just soldiers. At the rate they were deteriorating, it was possible that soon they would not even be that.

_Renard Gilchrist and the Valkoris 1st regiment…also known as reavers and money-seeking murderers._


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Vandread or any of its characters- Gonzo has the rights to them. Yes, they can sue me, but I don't think they'd bother.

Chapter 3: Indecision

Meia Gisborn stood in front of a viewing port, watching the form of the Nirvana sinking further into the distance. She turned away and halted suddenly, gripping a handrail and stiffening her body as another wave of nausea swept over her and her vision blurred. The head injury she'd suffered was apparently more serious than she'd first thought. Angrily, the blue-haired pilot pushed the thought away- in a time like this, she had no time to be indulging weaknesses.

Gritting her teeth, she walked into the small bridge of the supply ship, looking at the readouts. Gascogne was sitting in the pilot's chair, expertly guiding the ship after the tracking beacon's signal. Barnette was sitting in the other chair, keeping an eye on things. She had insisted on coming and bringing her Dread along as an escort, and Meia had been too tired to gainsay her. The Dread was currently being carried, secure in the clamps of the ship's arms. Barnette had to use one of the pirate space suits to go to and from the fighter, though. 

Seeing she was not needed there, Meia turned away and walked into the small room that was serving as 'living quarters' for them- the pilots of the stolen machines, Gascogne, Barnette, and Paiway, who would have to serve as their medic. She saw Hibiki was lying back on his cot, snoring softly. Dita was perched beside him, ready to jump up and run to fetch whatever he needed if he woke up. The Vanguard pilot's injury had been sealed by Duero, but he was still in some pain. The Dread leader sighed quietly and walked down to her own cot, sinking onto it. Even the slight shift caused by her head hitting the pillow made a wash of pain come over her, and she lay still until it faded. Maybe she would let Paiway take a look at the injury… later. Meia wearily closed her eyes and was asleep in moments.

The sickbay doors on the mercenary ship hissed open as Renard walked inside, glancing around. He was immediately alerted to Kyra's location by a shout:

"Keep your hands where they belong, you old lecher!", which was immediately followed by a yelp of pain.

No emotion crossed his visage, but he let out a long-suffering sigh as he headed in the general direction the shout had come from, to find a smoldering Kyra sitting on an examination table, and the regular sickbay Medtech, a forty-something year old named Kroeger, wincing as he cradled his hand.

The Stone Soldier leaned against the wall beside the door to the examination room, studying his two subordinates.

"So how's the patient, doctor?"

Kroeger grinned wryly. "She'll live. A couple of nasty bruises, a split lip, and a severely damaged ego. Not to mention a very bad temper."

Kyra wrinkled her nose at him before turning to Renard, trying to defuse the storm she knew was coming.

"Well, uh…how are the vehicles we stole? I heard something happened down at the bay."

"They're fine. Don't try to change the subject. You know what I'm here about- orders were only for you to go in and take a look around, like any intelligence agent does. Instead you tried to capture them by yourself. You deserve those injuries, and a lot more, too. You would've been dead if she wanted to shoot you."

She snarled at him. "I know that, _dad_. What the hell is your problem? Don't act like it's such a big deal- we got what we were after, right?"

Renard pushed himself off the wall, suddenly seeming to grow several feet. His bionic eye locked on her, the red glow seeming to bore into her mind. Kyra shivered slightly and shrank under the baleful glare.

"I hate it when you do that…"

Without a word, the Captain walked out of the room, reappearing a few minutes later with a mop and bucket. 

"Discipline is essential in an outfit like this, Kyra. Since it seems you don't have any, I'm relieving you. You still have to do something to earn your keep, though- and this is it." He hurled the cleaning implements at her, and she barely managed to catch both. 

"Go over the whole ship. And I mean the WHOLE ship, not just the hallways- the dormitories, the armories, the bays, the bridge, Engineering- the only places you can skip are private quarters. If I catch you sleeping while any floor isn't so clean that I can see my face in it, you can spend the rest of the night in the brig."

He turned away and stalked out, leaving the frustrated girl staring at the mop. Kroeger grinned.

"As you're here, why don't you start with the sickbay?"

Conrad was seated in his desk chair, idly going over the day's supply report when Renard came in.

"How was she?"

"The same as ever. Headstrong, willful, and insubordinate. We can't use her as an intelligence asset anymore unless she gets her act together."

The Old Man raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? She's one of the best actors and sneaks we've got."

"Her reckless attitude endangers the success of every mission she goes on, as well as her own life. She needs some hard lessons."

"Apparently, she's not the only one."

Renard did not reply, but simply stood quietly, waiting for an explanation.

"Varius' techs were cleaning down the ship that was used in the raid when they found a tracking device. Our friends on the Nirvana aren't going to let us go easily."

"That's no problem- simply destroy the device and move the ship. They'll lose us."

"Maybe, but I don't think that's the best solution- they might just keep looking anyway."

Renard narrowed his remaining eye as Kurze's meaning reached him. "You mean ambush them?"

The Old Man nodded. "There's an asteroid belt nearby- we can move in there and plant the device on one of them as a lure. I want you to have a team ready to take them out when they arrive."

"There are other ways of-"

"Listen to me! In this business we can't afford to be leaving live enemies behind us! As long as they're following us, they're a threat! Do you understand?"

Renard matched his superior's glare with his own. "Yes."

Without another word, he marched out.

"Meia! Meia! Hey, wake up!"

"Ugnnn…"

Meia raised her head dazedly to see Jura peering down at her. 

"Hey, are you alright? Maybe you should let someone take a look at that-"

"I'm fine. What is it?"

"Gascogne said that we're closing in on the signal. It seems they stopped for a while."

Meia nodded and picked herself up, swaying for a moment before moving away. Jura frowned after her.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Commander, they're moving closer- they've stopped."

Renard nodded. _Just a shadow force then_. He lifted the commlink.

"Varius, get moving."

"Alright, alright…" The technician gunned the engines of the smaller ship they'd taken, and moved off, carrying the beacon with him.

As could be expected, the pirate craft followed, entering the maze of floating rock. Renard waited.

"Commander, they've entered the kill zone."

The 'kill zone' was an area of space where all the heavy weapons platforms he'd brought had the most open range of fire. He knew he'd have to order them to shoot before the ship passed out of it.

"Commander? They're still going, Commander."

Renard gritted his teeth as he made his decision. Raising the comm., he gave the order.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I am not the owner of Vandread, which you all know.

Author's note: Thanks for everyone's reviews. Keep them coming, please!

Chapter 4: Ambush

Paiway was seated at a small table in the 'living room', which also doubled as an impromptu kitchen and dining room. She was puzzling over a medical book Duero had lent her, but having little success in understanding it. Sighing hugely, she glanced up, looking out of the small porthole in front of her as they passed a floating asteroid. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw something glinting inside a crater… something that looked oddly like a…

"Cannon!"

Gascogne and Barnette glanced up, surprised by Paiway's shout. The ship suddenly rocked violently as a storm of tracers spiraled about it. Reacting quickly, Gascogne spun and slapped at a control, activating the ship's shields. It was just in time, as a series of missiles impacted on the energy field, sending up flashes of light and energy. The ship shook again under the impact, hurling people randomly across the floor. Gascogne glanced at flashing screens.

"Damn this! The signal's disappeared!"

Barnette unstrapped herself from the chair, reaching for the space suit hanging beside her on a peg.

"I'm going to my Dread!"

Hibiki and Dita stumbled in as the ship shook again.

"What's going on?"

Gascogne grinned.

"They chose a good place for this- the asteroids are going to make it difficult to dodge. But there's two ways that can go!"

She gunned the engines, narrowly dodging more fire. As far as she could tell, the shooting was coming from all directions, so she flew straight, in an attempt to break out of the ring surrounding them, flying around asteroids and using them as cover for the ship. 

"Not good enough, sir! The vessel's energy field is enough to deflect the ordnance we've been using!"

Renard cursed silently. While the vulcan cannons and burst missiles he'd ordered to be fired were relatively weak, they also had the best chance of scoring repeated hits.

"No choice then. All weapons platforms- switch to munitions order 3!"

"Yes, sir!"

In the various gun emplacements set up over the asteroids, hisses of hydraulic machinery began as the platforms began to switch over. Each one was designed primarily as a static defense platform used to support infantry with heavy fire, as well as shield them with moveable armored plates attached to their bases. All had multiple weapons points that could be replaced with a few hours of work, enabling them to be outfitted to deal with any situation. Munitions order 3 was basically the heaviest gun or ordnance the platform carried- 1 was light, and 2 was medium.

Vulcans slid aside and plasma cannons coasted into position on the revolving 'platform', their coils crackling with energy as the gunners powered them up. Heavy defense lasers or a different form of missile replaced missile pods.

"All gunners report weapons replacement complete. Target is already out of sight of platforms 1 to 3, and reaching the maximum LOS of platforms 4 to 6. Platforms 7 to 9 report a clear view."

"Open fire."

"Orders received."

Gascogne grinned- enemy fire had ceased, and a fully armed Dread was flying beside them. 

"We just might make it out of this ye-"

The sensors beeped urgently as they detected massive energy discharges and multiple missile exhaust behind them.

"Damn, Barnette, MOVE!"

Both ships twisted out of their formation as massed firepower exploded around them. Missiles punched into asteroids, smashing into solid rock before detonating, sending splinters flying everywhere as the asteroids burst apart. Lasers burned holes clean through anything in the way, ripping around their targets in a blaze of ruby light. Plasma blasts tore ravenously into obstacles, melting the frozen chunks of space debris with the heat of a star. 

Gascogne gritted her teeth as a defense laser hit the shields, puncturing them easily and scoring over her ship's hull, sending sparks everywhere and leaving metal twisted and molten. The weakened field protecting the ship fell under pounding blows from flying asteroid chunks, and the crew were thrown about like rag dolls as more impacts hammered it, spinning the craft almost in a full circle and leaving it hanging in space, dented and battered.

Barnette didn't fare any better. A plasma blast cut into the Dread, overloading the shields and shearing into the armor on its rear quarter. The fighter was thrown into a mad spiral, red screens and warnings showering Barnette as she fought desperately to keep control. She just managed to wrench it back into a straight course when she realized she was flying head on into a floating hunk of rock.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

She yanked on the controls, barely managing to turn the Dread's nose away. A little… a little more… she cursed violently as she struggled with the sluggish response caused by the damage of the plasma blast. In the end, inertia defeated her. Even as the engines began to flare, the machine carried on and slammed into the hulking asteroid. The impact slammed Barnette back into her seat, stunning her and driving her breath out of her lungs. A rocky outcropping sank deep within the molten armor in the Dread's rear, more or less sticking it to the asteroid. The force of the crash also began making the asteroid spin backwards, carrying the Dread and its hapless pilot further away from the battle zone.

"Captain, the main ship has ceased moving, but we can't sight the fighter that was accompanying it. Orders?"

Renard frowned. He was sure that both craft had been hit… at any rate, he wasn't going to simply shoot a helpless vessel down.

"Send out Corbulo's party and have them secure anyone still alive on the ship."

"Acknowledged."

Gascogne pushed herself off the controls, wishing she'd found the time to strap herself in. Groggily, she looked out the viewport. Why were there so many lines over it? She suddenly snapped alert. _Cracks! _

If she didn't act fast, they could break up into real holes and kill everyone onboard by depressurization. Reaching down into a small pouch under her chair, she came out with what looked like an aerosol can that was filled with a fast-drying synthetic plastic. She quickly began to trace the cracks with the plastic, being careful to seal them up totally to make sure not even the tiniest breach remained.

Meia shoved herself off the ground. She found she'd been hurled clean out of the bridge and into the living room. Paiway was lying nearby. Meia glanced at her, noting that she was moving with some relief. The nurse slowly raised her face off the floor.

"Ouch… What happened?"

The Dread leader opened her mouth to reply, but shut it again when a feeling of weightlessness swept over her. She suddenly noticed no part of her body was in contact with the floor, and that Paiway, and everything else in the room not anchored down, was floating. 

"The gravity must have been knocked out. This isn't-"

A minor explosion interrupted her as one wall suddenly vanished, blown down to the floor by a shaped charge. Cursing herself for losing focus, she flipped back so she was facing the opening, wishing she'd trained more for zero gravity combat. A pair of cylindrical objects suddenly fell in, releasing a greenish mist. Paiway immediately started to struggle away, but stopped quickly, going limp as it filled her lungs. Meia narrowed her eyes and stopped breathing, propelling herself towards the bridge as a pair of armored figures floated in, spinning gracefully to cover both sides of their new door. The one facing her held up an odd looking weapon, and she desperately dove down as it released a cylinder, which hung there for a beat before suddenly propelling itself in her general direction. It split, releasing a series of small, round objects that resembled ball bearings. Each one spewed gas in all directions, and the blue-haired pilot scrambled backwards as her eyes suddenly blurred with tears. She pushed back, but suddenly perceived a dim figure leaning over her. Panicking, Meia raised her ring and fired, seeing the figure fall back. Another suddenly appeared from the side and pressed something into her neck. A hot flare of agony tore down her body as it released an electric shock, followed by a dull numbness. She tried to move, but her body refused to obey, leaving her raging at her helplessness. The pain came again, and this time she fell into the welcoming darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: Thanks to all my reviewers, keep them coming, please. Looks like this will be a long story, though.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Vandread or any of its characters. The fact that I wish I did is irrelevant.

Chapter 5: The Belly of the Beast

Renard strode into the Old Man's office, stopping in front of his desk. 

"You called?"

Conrad looked up at his subordinate, trying to mask the anger he was feeling behind an impassive mask.

"I told you to take care of them. Rather than following orders, you took them prisoner, creating another headache for me to deal with. Now what if their crewmates come looking for them? You have a lot of nerve to call Kyra insubordinate, Renard."

His Captain's remaining eye met his gaze, glowing with a grim determination.

"There's little difference between them dead or captured, except for the reactions of their crewmates. They're not going to be telling anyone where we are."

Kurtz surged to his feet, face beginning to turn red. 

"That doesn't make a difference! The point of this is that you disobeyed a direct order by not removing those nuisances! Damn you, boy, I thought I taught you better than that!"

Renard's head snapped up, and his burning glare caused even the Old Man to flinch slightly. Face twisting in anger, he brought his fist down on top of the desk with a sound like thunder.

"You _did_ teach me better than that! Who was it that told me there was no honor in killing a helpless opponent? Who told me mercy for the defeated was part of a soldier's code? Keep this in the forefront of your mind, Conrad: _I will fight to keep the unit together if I must, but I will NOT murder helpless people for you!_"

Conrad pulled back, shocked by the vehemence of Renard's voice. He knew without a doubt that the old days, the days when they had been soldiers in the defense of their home, were gone for good. Now was a new, dangerous time, where his men were beginning to change, trying to find some pride and purpose within themselves. Without another word, he turned his back and slowly moved to stare out the viewport behind him until he finally heard his sub commander turn and leave.

I see it's impossible to stay the way we were… the only question now is what we will become.

Hibiki moved, mumbling under his breath. His head ached, feeling as though a jackhammer was pounding away in his skull. He opened his eyes, then groaned and closed them again as a flash of brilliant light almost blinded him. Slowly, he opened them again, letting his eyes adjust to the light. With another groan, he pushed himself upright. The creaking of protesting joints told him he'd probably spent a while stuck in an uncomfortable position. He shook his head again and glanced around, realizing he was in a cell illuminated by a very bright light in the ceiling. The still unconscious forms of Paiway, Meia, Dita, and Jura lay around him. Gascogne was sitting up against the wall of the cell, holding her head and grumbling incoherently. He could certainly emphasize with her.

He snapped back to attention when he heard a voice outside.

"They're starting to wake up. Should we call for Commander Renard?"

"Nah, they're not all awake yet. No point wasting the Stone Soldier's time on them until they are."

He looked out the door of the cell, and saw two armored forms, complete with helmets. Both held metallic batons in their hands, showing easy familiarity with them. Grimacing in pain, Hibiki racked his thoughts, trying to remember how he'd ended up here. Brief flashes of shaking and explosions flitted through his memory, and he remembered seeing an indistinct figure through teary eyes and irritating smoke, followed by a brief flash of light, a debilitating pain, and then blackness.

"Hey! Hey, you two out there! Where the hell am I?"

Both helmeted heads turned to regard him. He could read nothing from their body stances or their black visors. The one on the left spoke.

"This is a military holding facility. Prisoners may not speak unless directly addressed. As this is your first offense, you will not be punished, but punishments will be administered for every infraction after this one."

Hibiki stared in disbelief. 

"Hey, you can't-"

The other guard moved with incredible speed, flicking the rod as he advanced on the cell. It suddenly telescoped outwards into a long staff, with an odd looking series of spikes in one end. Electricity crackled along the spines as he thrust it through the bars, poking Hibiki in the arm. Pain ignited through his body as it connected and pierced his skin.

"Aaaaaaarrrrrrggghhhh!"

His body instinctively tried to pull away, but the shock all but paralyzed him, and he could only lie there, groaning and cradling his arm, as it was retracted. The guard effortlessly flipped the weapon, catching it and bringing the other end towards him. The butt end of the prod had a sizeable metal loop in it, which suddenly snapped open. The man skillfully brought it down, catching Hibiki's throat in the 'collar', which he snapped closed again, catching him in an iron grip. The guard yanked, brutally ramming Hibiki's head against the metal bars. He leaned down, his dispassionate visor an inch away from Hibiki's face.

"What's the matter with you, boy? Are you deaf or something? You heard him- 'prisoners may not speak unless directly addressed'. And still you had to keep talking, didn't you, you gutter-licking scum? Idiots like you are an insult to the species. I'll make it a little clearer to you now, boy: if you open that mouth of yours, I'll stick a shock prod in it. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Hibiki struggled for breath, but the guard had closed the clamp so tightly he couldn't get in enough air to speak. Instead, he spat in the man's visor.

The guard chuckled, pulling away and making a show of wiping the spittle off. He yanked, slamming Hibiki's head against the bars again, then again, then again, until the dazed Vanguard pilot stopped struggling against the clamp. Raising one gloved hand, he casually adjusted a dial on the rod's middle, and Hibiki began to choke as the loop around his throat began to constrict. The Guard continued until he was turning blue, then contemptuously released his hold, allowing the pilot to drop to the floor.

With a snort, he spun the staff again, stabbing Hibiki in the chest. With a short scream of pain, he flopped like a speared fish as the electric current from the weapon jolted through him. The guard yanked it out, and he began to try rolling over to move out of range, which was exactly what the man expected. He brought the clamp end around again, catching one of his legs as his partner moved up and caught the other one. Both guards yanked back viciously, dragging Hibiki across the floor and pulling his legs through the spaces between the bars. Unfortunately for him, his legs joined together into one area, and his groin slammed into the unyielding metal.

Gascogne watched in angry helplessness as the guards laughed and taunted Hibiki, alternately shocking him or simply clubbing him as he lay curled up in a ball, groaning in pain. Not knowing much about a man's anatomy, she ascribed the fact that his voice seemed higher than normal to the reason that the guard had choked him. Both stopped and stepped back after a while, turning away and laughing. She took the opportunity to crawl up to the man and pull him out of easy reach from the bars, then deposited him on his back, unsure of what to do.

Hibiki groaned and rolled onto his side, not responding to Gascogne's actions. Every part of his body throbbed with pain. It hurt his throat to take a breath, and the shocks from the guards' weapons had all but paralyzed his muscles. His muscles, but not his nerves- it felt like his bones had melted, his muscles had been torn loose, and his skin was on fire. With another groan, he allowed himself to slip back into unconsciousness.

Meia jerked awake, ignoring the horrible pain in her head as she lurched unsteadily to her feet. She glanced about, trying to ascertain where she was. _Wait- this isn't on Gascogne's ship._ She looked down to see the others all sitting there looking up at her. Hibiki was covered in bruises and sat desolate and lifeless at the side, with a worried-looking Dita beside him. 

"Where-" Meia cut herself off when she saw everyone else, with the exception of Hibiki, shaking their heads frantically at her. Outside, she heard a voice.

"The last one of them has woken up, sir. No sir, not trouble out of them. Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

The Dread leader shook her head to clear it, then glanced out at the guards. Both held metallic batons with loops attached at the ends. Something suddenly became clear to her, and she looked down at Gascogne, raised an eyebrow at the guards, and then indicated Hibiki with a jerk of her chin.

Gascogne nodded back, eyes warily fixed on the guards outside. Meia sighed inwardly. The boy's arrogance and naturally belligerent disposition seemed to get him in a lot of trouble with other people. She slowly slumped back, sliding down the wall into a seating position. She wished she had enough strength left to keep up a confident façade, but her head was killing her and she was feeling exhausted. She always tried to keep on top of things, to stay in control, but so far every move she'd tried against this enemy had been second-guessed and she'd been absolutely beaten. The blue-haired pilot closed her eyes, wondering if she was really so weak she couldn't do anything to save the friends she had led into captivity. It was a chilling thought.

Dita sat beside Hibiki, afraid to do or say anything, partly out of fear of the guards, partly because she didn't want to upset him. It made her angry that people could be so cruel as to hurt Hibiki like that, but she could find nothing to do or say. Even Leader seemed to be at a loss at what to do. She looked down at the floor. She hated situations like this so much, where she could not contribute or do anything, not even something funny to make someone smile. She quietly drew her knees up under her chin, unable to escape her feelings of helplessness and inadequacy.

Jura sat alone, pondering the situation. Barnette was not here, and she wondered where her friend was. Perhaps she had been placed somewhere else? But for what reason, if the rest of them were here? She could think of nothing good. Maybe she had been injured? That was bad… the blonde fixed her eyes on the two soldiers standing outside, trying to make herself believe there was a way out of this for all of them. Nothing else could be possible.


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Vandread or any of its characters. They are the property of Gonzo.

Chapter 6

The Nirvana prisoners were silent, sitting and watching their guards sullenly. Everyone perked up a bit when the door opened, but sagged back down when they saw it was only a woman with a mop and bucket coming in. Everyone, that is, except Hibiki, Dita and Meia, who recognized her as one of the invaders. Hibiki's newly learned discretion kept him from saying anything, although he was itching to taunt her. Dita simply stayed quiet, glancing around, and trying to ignore the woman. Meia frowned, slightly perplexed. Why was such an operative a part-time janitor? She gave up pondering and slid back into a dull, pain-fuelled apathy.

The guards, though, were under no compulsion to keep quiet.

"Hey, Kyra, you missed a spot."

"Don't forget to mop the walls and ceiling, too."

Kyra spun around, bristling. 

"You two shut the hell up! I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Renard's fucking uptightness, so stuff it before I shove those stunsticks up a place you really don't want them!"

"Oh ho ho…" The guards glanced at each other.

"She wants to shove our sticks up something…"

"Hey Kyra, do these turn you on? That is so exciting…"

The fuming woman raised a balled fist, ready to strike.

"Does THIS turn you bastards on?"

The guards glanced at each other again.

"Uh, kinda!" Both broke out laughing as she glared angrily. With an exasperated huff, she turned around and began mopping at a furious pace. The guards were still chuckling as the door hissed open again. Both glanced at it, then snapped to attention, drawing the prisoners' interest.

A man walked in, looking at the guards. 

"At ease."

Both relaxed, but stayed where they were. 

"Did you have any trouble out of them?"

"No sir, no trouble."

The man turned to the cell, and several of them recoiled in surprise. He had a lean face that could have been considered handsome if not for the gleaming silver and glowing red that had replaced one eye, giving him a cold, machine-like look. When he stepped closer, they could see lines of scars still spreading out a little from under the bionic implant. Dita shrank back from the imposing image, and Paiway also squirmed backwards, clearly uncomfortable with the look. He surveyed them carefully, his gaze coming to rest on Hibiki.

"From the looks of this one, he was a bit loud."

"Yes sir, but nothing a little military discipline can't handle."

Hibiki's strained temper and broken pride flared up. "What the hell are you talking about? I was just asking where I was and you maniacs attacked me for no reason!"

"You were punished for a misdemeanor, punk. Shut the fuck up before I teach you another lesson, understand?"

Their commander simply stood there impassively, before raising his right hand. His fingers flashed with practiced speed, forming a message in an intricate hand code none of them understood. Both guards subsided, then saluted and walked out. He turned to regard Kyra. She was still mopping slowly, and while her back was to them, it was obvious she was paying a lot of attention to what was going on.

"What are you doing in here, Mop Girl? You know that _civilians _are not allowed to listen in on a military interrogation."

Kyra's shoulders stiffened, but she snapped around, eyes blazing. "Cut it out with the farce, Renard! This isn't military anymore and you know it! Quit trying to fool yourself!"

The Stone Soldier kept his face impassive, although inwardly he reeled from the sharp words. _Even she thinks so…_ Anger took over. He stepped forwards, then kicked the bucket, sloshing dirty, soapy water all over her. She staggered back, trying to clear it out of her eyes, then jackknifed forwards, letting out a gasp as he slammed a knife-hand blow hard into her abdomen, over where Meia had hit her earlier. She stumbled, out of wind, but recovered and came back at him, just as he expected. Her grit and fighting spirit were part of what made him recruit her, after all.

Unfortunately for her, she had not learned enough to vary her tactics with her opponent. She was a skilled fighter, but she attacked by rote, using techniques none other than he himself had taught her. 

A quick, vicious jab, which he parried, followed immediately by a leg-sweep to his right knee, but he had already read the move and adroitly sprang over the attack, then executing a perfect reverse kick that slammed home into the small of her back, catapulting her into the cell she was facing. She bounced off, just in time to catch his fist as he spun around, putting all his momentum into a twist of the hips that slammed the total force into her kidneys. 

Kyra stumbled forward again, but with a loose, flapping quality to her limbs that told him the last hit had taken the fight out of her. She smashed into the bars, gripping them in an effort to keep from dropping to the ground. Pain ran up and down her spine in electric shrieks as a horrible nausea welled up in her skull from the blow. She gasped, then retched, tasting the salty tang of blood in her mouth, feeling it drip down from onto her chin, then onto the floor. Renard reached out and grabbed her hair, then with another powerful twist of his hips, dragged her off the bars, dropping her onto the ground. 

Not releasing his powerful grip, the mercenary captain yanked her back to his feet, then mercilessly slammed the heel of his palm into her breastbone, lifting her clean off the ground and sending her to the floor in a daze of pain. He saw her head hit hard, and knew the fight was over without a doubt. He knelt beside her, gripping her hair again in one fist and lifting her head off the ground a few inches while leaning closer.

"We may no longer be in an army, but this is still a military outfit, Kyra. It's only that _you _are no longer in the military part. I will not tolerate insubordination or open disrespect in front of outsiders. You will do what you're told or I'll have you thrown out." He spoke in a whisper the prisoners could not make out. He was not proud of doing what he had, especially for playing on Kyra's inexperience- she had been with the First for a long time, and since the loss of their homeworld, she knew no one and nothing outside of the regiment.

Rising, he turned and called in the guards. They carefully picked her up and brought her back to the sickbay for the second time in the day.

Renard turned back to the cell, suddenly feeling very weary. The prisoners studied him with barely-concealed animosity, but he pushed it aside and began to speak. He was planning to introduce himself by rank, but it suddenly seemed so foolish he didn't.

"My name is Renard Gilchrist. I'm the second in command of this unit."

Meia lifted her head. The drain seemed to be taking everything out of her, but she refused to back down.

"What unit is this? Who are you people? Why did you attack us?"

He studied her carefully, his single human eye filled with a sudden cunning calculation, as though deciding what to tell her.

"We were formerly a regiment in the defense force of a planet. We were driven off our home, and turned mercenary. We attacked you because we were paid to steal those craft… but there's something about them I want to ask you."

Gascogne laughed openly. "What makes you think that we'd tell you anything?"

Renard gestured at the battered Hibiki. "Do you like having things like that happen? Telling me won't hurt you, but holding out will."

Gascogne sighed, shrugged. "Point. What do you want to know?"

"What exactly is it about those machines? The data we recovered from your ship made no sense. Some more data we…acquired from a different source says the craft can combine to form some sort of 'super-machine', but my technicians can't figure out how that can even be physically possible."

The head of the Nirvana's Register grinned. "You're asking questions that I wish I knew the answer to."

The mercenary studied her carefully, then swept the rest of them with his gaze, but none showed anything. At that moment, another soldier entered and murmured something to him in a quick, hushed exchange. Renard nodded and strode out.

Barnette sat miserably in her Dread. She'd been stuck there for an extremely long time now, and was cramped, bored, and in desperate need for a bathroom. _I wonder how the others are doing?_ The thought made her even more miserable. She had not even been able to catch a glimpse of the fate of her friends from this angle. She was despondently pondering the thought when a sudden beep interrupted her. A ship was incoming…

Renard Gilchrist and Conrad Kurtz were striding down a corridor together, towards a meeting room. They entered and stood in front of a table, eying the man that had hired them. Both were immediately struck by the wrongness of him- he was simply not natural, for some reason. He rose, grinning hugely, which unnerved them even more.

"Gentlemen! Welcome! I trust that everything went well?"

Kurtz nodded deferentially. 

"Naturally, Minister. The items are being unloaded as we speak."

"Of course, of course…a second, if you please." He turned away and spoke into an intercom for a while.

"Well, my man has told me that you delivered the goods, as promised. Now for the other part of our transaction…"

He raised a hand, and suddenly a brilliant flare of red light burst out in a powerful arc, moving straight at the two mercenaries. Renard tackled Kurtz to the ground, battle-honed instincts kicking in, as the blast surged overhead, fusing the wall into a molten mass. He swiftly yanked out his sidearm while hitting the alert button hidden in his glove. The units the mercenaries had prepared in case of this burst out, firing on their former employer's men while hunter drones shot into any human signature not wearing an IFF transmitter, self-destructing on large masses or using deadly blades to tear open single targets.

Renard rose from hiding, spraying fire from his weapon across the room. He used a deadly Valkoris-designed sub gun that drew on a block of special plastic for ammunition, sending a solid stream of razor-sharp shards at subsonic speeds, capable of obliterating a human body in full body armor. It fired at an extremely fast rate, had little chances of jamming, and little to no recoil. Blood splattered everywhere as the Minister's aides died, but a glowing red energy field deflected any shots aimed at the man himself. Renard dropped down again as another blast of crimson light arced overhead, wondering what the hell that man was.

A brilliant crimson flash filled the room, and when it was gone, he raised his head above the piece of wall he was sheltering behind. The minister was gone, with a large, burnt spot in the floor where he had stood. 

He pulled out a commlink as Kurtz got up behind him.

"This is Renard. What's the status?"

"The ships are gone, commander! They just vanished in a red light! We've got casualties, they were trying to secure it…"

_Damn it! What the hell just happened?_  
  



	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Vandread or any of its characters, though I would sure like to.

Author's note: Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming, please. This story is progressing at a snail's pace, though, so have a little patience, all right? A warning, though: this story will NOT have a happy ending, so fairy tale fans apply elsewhere.

Chapter 7

Renard stormed into the holding center, carrying a pad in one hand. Walking up to the prisoners' cell, he strode right up to the bars. 

"Is there something you neglected to tell me the first time I was here? Because a few people certainly show an extraordinary amount of interest in those craft."

Gascogne raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you think I held out?"

The grim-faced commander raised the pad, punching a button. It showed what happened in the office where he and Kurtz had gone, the red light and the unnatural power the Minister used.

"Does this look familiar to you?" He surveyed the faces of the people in the cell, noting the looks. They had seen it before. His sense of worry deepened.

"Where was that?" Meia was quite obviously troubled by it. 

"What was that? Is the question." Renard looked them over. "Seems you know. Tell me."

"Why should we help you?" Hibiki jumped in, scowling suspiciously.

Renard suddenly grinned. It was more unnerving than could be expected because paralyzed muscles did not move, giving his face a decidedly lopsided look.

"Why not? You're going to be stuck in there for a while. Obviously this is something that worries you. It's really none of my business except I'm fairly sure that this guy is up to no good, and because we have a debt to pay to him."

"Hold on!" Gascogne glanced at Hibiki, a look full of meaning. "We aren't going to help you for nothing." She gestured at the bars. Renard considered for a while, then finally nodded grudgingly.

"I'll let you go- but you have to help us first."

Barnette opened her eyes, then immediately tried to sit up. However, she found she couldn't- she was strapped down to a cold, metallic surface. Wires ran over her naked body, and some kind of complicated contraption was fitted over her head. She tried to remember how the hell she'd ended up there, but her mind drew a blank. She paused as she heard fiendish laughter from somewhere above her.

"Awake now? Good. I always like it better when I do this with the subject awake. I enjoy listening to screams- so soothing, you see. You'll certainly try your best to give me some good ones, won't you? Good girl."

Barnette looked up, opening her mouth to say something, but stopped when an odd sound began, a low buzzing at the edges of her hearing that was slowly but surely building itself up. Fear began to worm into her mind and she struggled frantically, but to no avail. She felt goose bumps crawl along her skin, followed by the laughter again. 

"It's useless to resist, you know. You're not going anywhere and no one will come to save you. It's too late to save you anyway. You know how long it will be for someone without the proper know-how to remove all that equipment? A very long time, and that's time you don't have."

The Dread pilot struggled to stay calm and put on a brave front, but her efforts were failing, being submerged within an all-encompassing panic as the humming gradually increased in volume.

"Who are y-AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Pure agony pierced her body as coiling machinery tore into her skin, embedding itself in her systems. Wiring and systemry wrapped her limbs up in unbreakable bonds of steel. Barnette screamed and screamed and continued screaming until wires and circuitry entered her lungs, cutting off normal breathing. Oxygen tubes were embedded into her throat and torso, providing air to what body systems the machinery required to be functional. The green-haired pilot was almost insensate from the pain, but a new agony wracked the remnants of her body as a specialized machine cut into her skull, allowing multiple coils of electrodes into her brain. She jerked convulsively again, unable even to scream as the crackling wires unleashed hellish red lightning into her mind, instantly obliterating unneeded memories and brain systems and reconfiguring thought patterns.

The last thing that the true Barnette ever heard was the howling laughter coming from above, as the electrodes removed what was left of her individuality.

Parfait watched in alarm as the Pexis twisted and seemed almost to writhe, the blue undulating in shades of light and dark, shadows and light chasing each other across its surface. All around her, technicians ran and shouted at each other, trying to bring the surges of energy randomly blowing out systems over the ship under control. Her dread grew with every moment she spent watching the Nirvana's core.

"It seems like…it's in pain…"

"You're kidding me." Gascogne was staring at Renard and Kurtz across the table that separated them. The two mercenaries glanced at each other, then back at her.

"You're saying that the Minister of Defense of _Meranos_ hired you to steal the Dreads and the Vanguard?"

Renard grimaced. "You heard me."

"Why would they do that?" The Chief of the Register pounded her hand into the table. "They were our allies!"

Conrad Kurtz let out a harsh laugh. Renard simply looked at Gascogne.

"What?"

"You shouldn't put too much faith in anything." The grizzled mercenary leader shook his head, before glancing at his second-in-command. "Even people you think you know well can pull something on you."

Renard didn't even acknowledge the comment, instead nodding to Gascogne. 

"It's true. We bought the ship's layout and information from a minor Tarak official, then planned, watched, and then came in as 'deliverymen'."

Meia looked at him with hooded eyes. The black rings under her eyes emphasized her dark expression.

"We already told you what we know about the red light- or what we suspect, anyway."

"Yes. It seems we'll have to return you to your crew now…then decide what to do."

"Wait!" Jura looked up, meeting the captain's inquisitive gaze. "Where's Barnette?"

The two mercenaries looked at each other.

"Who?"

The Nirvana crew was allowed to wander over the regular areas of the ship, but notably not in the engine room, armory, bridge, docking bays, or kitchen, while they were en route to the asteroid field the ambush had taken place in.

Meia made her way out of the meeting room and quickly found the nearest unoccupied corridor before slumping and resting one arm on the wall for support. She began to try and get up again when someone cleared his throat behind her. She whirled and nearly fell over, but a strong hand caught one arm, holding her up. She managed to lift her head and met Renard's gaze.

"What…what do you want?" She tried to wrench her arm out of his grip, but only pulled his arm out to the side a little bit before she slumped again, pain and nausea from her head running over her and turning her legs to rubber.

"You should go to the sickbay." 

She tried her best to glare, but was relatively certain it did not come off well in the position she was in.

"It's none of your business. Go away. I'm fine." She rarely let even her fellow crewmates help her, and she certainly wasn't going to accept it from _this _man. 

"I don't think so. You have to act tough in situations where other people rely on you, but you shouldn't be dumb enough to keep going when out of emergencies if you're injured."

"Hmph." Meia tried to stand upright, but could barely even manage that. She did manage to push away from him and lean on the wall, though.

"Don't tell me you're more concerned about outsiders than your own subordinates."

"Don't judge things you don't understand. As for you, I don't need you dying in transit. The unit has enough problems already."

"GO AWAY." Meia managed to push herself off the wall, and stood squarely in front of him, but her vision swam and he suddenly seemed huge compared to her. She stepped back again, resting her back to the wall to keep from total collapse.

"There are two options here: either you walk to the sickbay voluntarily, or I heft you over my shoulder or drag you there by an ankle. Choose now."

An arduous two-minute walk later, Meia was slumped on an examination bench while Kroeger looked her over. 

"Concussion. Untreated so far, and with the variety of shocks and chemicals you've taken in since then- not a surprise the symptoms have gotten this bad."

While he was busily treating the injury, Meia saw Renard standing in front of a battered, resigned-looking Kyra. She growled at him with the remainders of her attitude.

"Someday, I swear I'm going to kick your ass."

The mercenary captain shook his head.

"Only by proxy. Hurry up and get well- you're not done mopping yet."

The girl groaned and lay back.

"Sorry, I'm injured."

Kroeger noted where Meia was looking. 

"Not familiar with the regimental customs, eh? In the Valkoris military- where we're originally from, fighting ability is valued highly. Often rather than initiating institutional action like a court-martial or reprimand, an officer will simply duke it out with someone not obeying orders. Of course, the officer will only do that if they can win- but it gets respect and obedience better than a lecture will."

Meia grunted noncommittally, wondering what it would have been like if she'd simply bashed in the head of someone not following orders. Fulfilling, perhaps, but not quite good procedure on a ship like the Nirvana.

Jura was looking around in the training section of the ship, patting her sword, which had been returned to her. She spun as she heard someone approaching her.

"Looking for something? No one's using this training facility right now, so feel free."

She frowned as the Old Man walked past her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Keeping in shape. The men won't respect someone they see as a doddering old noncombatant, after all." He looked at her weapon curiously.

"I don't see people carrying swords often now. Is that some gimmick or something?"

She huffed. "I know how to use this!"

He grinned. "A sword? You seem a little ill-disciplined for such a finesse weapon." The mercenary Colonel gestured at her clothes and hair.

"Too fancy. Not becoming of a fighter."

She glared at him. "You think so? It's too bad you're an old man, or I'd teach you something."

He laughed at her. "You talk a lot! But I'd be interested in seeing what you can do." The old mercenary walked over to a wall and removed a pair of training weapons, roughly the length of Jura's sword.

"I'm not so old I've forgotten how to use one of these. Do you have the courage to keep up with your boasting?"

"I'll match you stride for stride." Jura ground out between clenched teeth.

"En Garde!" 

Jura attacked first, looking to end the battle quickly and decisively. Her dulled practice sword's blade flashed as she unleashed a devastating series of quick, consecutive slashes, trying to figure out if she could pierce his guard. He stepped back, then parried each stroke with a lightly held blade, turning the blows so he didn't meet her force head on, deflecting strikes with hypnotic precision. He smiled and held up his free hand and placed it behind his back, infuriating her further. The blonde pilot charged, striking again and again, but seemingly unable to penetrate his flowing defense. With a sudden stroke, he caught her sword hand at a poor angle, twisting the weapon and sending it out of her hand. In a flash of movement, he had his blade at her throat.

She could only glare at him before he withdrew the blade and raised it in a salute.

"You fight too directly. A little more tact and precision would be necessary, as well as discipline. It's too easy to read what you're going to do."

Jura stared, openmouthed. No one had ever said anything about her technique before.

"Learn from those who can teach you- vanity is dangerous in a fighter. If this is a true duel you'd be dead."

She was about to reply when the door opened and Renard stalked in.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we're there- and there's no sign of the ship."


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: Blah blah blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda (C'mon, you guys know the drill already)

Author's note: Well, thanks to my three constant reviewers: Renwar, DJ Madcat, and of course, Seravy. I'm beginning to think you guys are also the only readers… Again, fairy tale lovers beware; this will not have a very happy ending. Well, at least from the Nirvana crew's viewpoint.

Chapter 8

"What do you mean you've found nothing?" Jura demanded incredulously. Renard shrugged in response.

"Nothing. No one. Maybe she already left."

The blond pilot blinked, as if she hadn't considered the idea before. "Maybe. Did your gunners hit her?"

"As far as they could tell, yes. It could have only been a glancing hit at best, though, as we found no wreckage."

Jura huffed a relieved sigh. 

"That's good. Did you tell Meia?"

"She's resting in the sickbay right now." The captain nodded to the Old Man. "What's next?"

"We go on as planned, then. We find the Nirvana, drop them off, and go settle our scores."

"Hold on a minute!" Jura looked between the two of them. "This is our fight, not yours. They're our ships!"

Renard shrugged, then turned and strode back out. She glared daggers at his back. A chuckle caused her to turn and direct her glower at the other man.

"What's so funny?" She hadn't quite forgotten her earlier humiliation yet either. Jura absolutely hated it when people didn't take her seriously.

Kurtz didn't reply, simply continued laughing before taking up a fighting stance again. 

"Come on. You've got a few things to work on." He raised an eyebrow as she stared at him.

"Do you have anything better to do?"

Gascogne was sitting in the infirmary, watching Kroeger patching Hibiki's injuries. The grizzled medic was also teaching Paiway a thing or two, and the young nurse watched wide-eyed, especially when he started talking about various other situations when he'd made a few 'ingenious' adaptations to treat injuries. Gascogne found it oddly charming the way the nurse took things in with a rapt stare. She'd matured over the past two years, and grown out of the bratty, snide girl who'd been put out so much over Duero's arrival on the ship. It also helped that Kroeger had a good sense of humor and an unpredictable nature that their own medic certainly lacked, which kept Paiway on her toes.

The young nurse broke into Kroeger's monologue long enough to ask a question.

"When did you get to do all that?"

He frowned thoughtfully, squinting up at the ceiling.

"Well…it could be the twenty-odd years I've spent in the military." His tone dripped with sarcasm. "I'm pretty sure I've patched up just about any combat injury you can name, from gunshot wounds to injuries from chemical attacks." He shook his head.

"Let me tell you, it's incredible the way people keep coming up with new ways to maim and kill each other- couple hundred years ago, you'd never have seen the kind of injuries I've had to deal with in a war zone. But then, I guess they didn't have the equipment I did a few hundred years ago either. Tit for tat, eh?"

He finished bandaging the last of the small stab wounds Hibiki had taken from the guards.

"There. That ought to tide you over till the next time you get yourself mauled." 

The young pilot scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kroeger simply grinned. "Kid like you- hot-blooded, thinks he's something… you don't last long without getting an attitude adjustment in a place like this. These are fighting men, and they've all been blooded, too- you don't strut around them if you can't back it up."

"Hey! Don't underestimate me! I'm not just some kid. I'm a Vanguard pilot, you know. I've fought enemies before."

The medic looked him over. "A what?"

"A Vanguard pilot! I fly a combat suit."

"Bah. What's that worth without your little machine, boy? Not much. You may be hot stuff in one of those things, but while you're on the ground, you better account for yourself as you are. A lot of airs aren't much if you can't back it up- best to keep your mouth shut."

Hibiki said nothing more, but he glowered at the man. Kroeger simply chuckled and turned away. When he moved, Hibiki saw Kyra sitting on the next bed, quite obviously laughing at him. He wanted to say something, but Kroeger's advice came back into his mind and he turned away sulkily. 

Gascogne glanced at Dita, who sat swinging her feet on an examination table, looking at the floor. She glanced back at the smoldering Hibiki, then shrugged, drawing out a pack of cards.

"Anyone want to play?"

She, Paiway, Kroeger, Kyra and Dita were halfway into their first round when the door hissed open again and Renard came in. He looked at them expressionlessly. 

"You had better not have been gambling for money, you two."

Kyra smiled sweetly at him. 

"Of course not! We'd never break the rules, Captain. We were just settling in for a friendly game of poker." Meanwhile, Gascogne carefully swept the chips off the table, out of Renard's line of sight.

"Poker without bets? That sounds like a fun game."

She grinned back at him.

"Noooo… not quite without bets, but nothing against the rules either. We were playing strip poker." Gascogne choked, and even Dita had to try hide a giggle. Kroeger looked bemused, but Renard quite obviously was not taken in.

"Bullshit. No one wants to see Kroeger naked." The medic burst into laugher, and Kyra joined in. The captain turned to Gascogne.

"We need you to contact your ship and set up a meeting point."

Meia blinked groggily, then groaned as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. She was lying on a bed behind a curtain, with voices emanating from beyond. She sat up all the way, then slid off the bed. She didn't want to admit it, but her vision was clear and the headache was mostly gone. Mostly. There was still a dull pounding somewhere behind her thoughts, but she pushed it aside and glanced at her chronometer. She'd been asleep for four hours now. Blinking, she walked up to the curtain and pushed it aside, revealing the rest of the mercenaries' sickbay. She blinked again and held up a hand to ward off the bright lights as her eyes adjusted. When she brought it down, she saw Gascogne, Dita, Paiway, Hibiki, Kroeger and Kyra seated around a table, playing cards.

Gascogne looked up.

"Oh, so you've finally woken up. That's good. We're getting near the Nirvana; it should be around two hours until we reach them. Nobody's heard from Barnette, though."

Meia hid her relief at the pronouncement, glad that this disaster would finally be over, and that she'd finally be able to put her feet on the Nirvana again, although she felt a sense of trepidation over what had happened to Barnette. To cover it, she looked around the room.

"Where's Jura?"

"Out somewhere. I don't know. Want to join?"

Meia waved a hand dismissively.

"I'm going out to look for her."

Kroeger glanced up from his hand.

"Take it easy, you're not fully healed yet." 

She didn't reply or even look back as she walked out. He breathed out an annoyed sound.

"Some attitude problem she's got."

Jura stared down at the board, planning her next move. There- that would be it. She reached out, wincing as her aching muscles protested. The practice session had been unforgiving, but the mercenary commander had told her she was improving. Pushing the thought aside, she moved the piece.

"Check!" She was delighted. She didn't play Chess much, but she was confident she was winning.

Her mood deflated as he captured the offending piece with a bishop she'd failed to notice. 

"Look everywhere. Don't just plant a spotlight on something- keep an eye on everything." His voice, stern and unforgiving, had been a constant so far too, scolding her without pity whenever she made a mistake. Jura growled. 

"Stop that! Don't talk to me like I'm a child! I know what I'm doing!"

He laughed.

"You complain endlessly when you should be listening, and learning. There are a lot of things you can pick up if you keep your mind and your ears open. Do you think you get better by crabbing? Complain when you're better than me at what we're doing. Complacency in someone so young is not a good trait."

Jura sighed. She hated the fact that his chiding was always correct; he'd picked apart the way she did things, exposing the mistakes and errors in thinking and attitude she normally made. It was humbling, though, and Jura was not used to being corrected or even countered. 

She moved another piece, and the game continued in silence for a while. She frowned at him when he made an overly obvious gambit, then studied the board. There had to be a second angle she hadn't seen. After a while, she gave up trying to find it, but moved defensively anyway. He chuckled as he moved in the piece she'd been hesitant to take.

"Checkmate."

"What!" She glared furiously at the board while he leaned back, chortling at her expression.

"Sometimes, the most obvious things are what you overlook. You're too easy to read."

She glared at him as she slammed her king down on the table. 

"I want a rematch!"

He shook his head. "My, but you're spoiled. Get used to losing. You can learn something from your defeats."

"I'd rather I never lost at all."

Conrad laughed outright. "Wouldn't we all- but that never happens. Get rid of your attitude. No one will be interested in pampering a woman as old as you are already."

"I am _not _spoiled!" She spluttered angrily.

He simply smiled.

Meia walked through the ship, well aware of the stares she was receiving. It was a bit disconcerting to go through halls filled with men instead of women; it was her first experience in a situation like this. The Dread leader pushed the thought out of her mind. She was only interested in finding Jura right now, just to make sure she didn't misplace another of those under her command, like Barnette. When they got back onto the Nirvana, she would have to see if she could get Magno to start a search. She paused in front of an unmarked door, foolishly realizing that she had not only no idea where to look for Jura, but that she wasn't quite sure which way to take to go back to the sickbay. Cursing herself for not marking the turns more carefully, she looked around her. A pair of soldiers passed by, talking and laughing. She was well aware of the odd stares both gave her, a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and wariness. She certainly had no intentions of asking them for help, and turned back to go the way she'd come. She would find something familiar eventually.

Magno glanced down at her bridge operators. 

"How much longer until we get there?"

"Not long." Celtic grinned back at the old woman. "Another hour or two."

She nodded, sitting back in her chair. She'd been extremely worried when they had lost contact with Meia's party, and was glad that they'd be coming back safely, except for Barnette. A part of her was still worried, though- both the Pexis and Pyoro had been acting strangely after that last incident, and up until now the robot was still spluttering unintelligible gibberish. She hoped nothing bad had happened to them, because she'd need the Pexis at full operational capabilities when they went to reclaim the three Dreads, the Vanguard, and Barnette. 

BC, standing next to her, seemed to sense her mood.

"What do you think happened to Barnette?"

"I don't know. We can only hope for now that it was nothing bad…"

Meia finally admitted defeat. She'd been wandering for close to an hour now. The corridors _were_ marked, but it was all in some kind of code. Aside from that, they were visually indistinguishable. Wondering if she could find some kind of intercom system, she entered the first unlocked door she could find. She stepped through, and the door hissed shut behind her. She continued on through another door, stepping into space. She stared around her, awestruck. It seemed as though she was standing in the middle of the universe, a mass of spiraling stars stretching on into eternity. Front and sides, light shone from the reaches of the galaxy, and she could clearly see details such as nearby planets, debris, floating asteroids, trails of ice and dust that reflected the light of stars. It took her a long moment to realize that she seemed to be moving; the positions of various objects seemed to be changing. She was snapped out of it by the sound of a voice.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

She spun to see a tall figure she hadn't noticed, seemingly invisible against the rear wall, where she'd entered. A glowing red light lit up Renard's face, the effect of his bionic eye's scanner playing across his features and giving him an almost demonic look, crimson light seeming to show dark creases and scars invisible in normal light.

"Wh-what is this place?"

"The main observation deck onboard the ship. The most advanced visual screening technology available to Valkoris before its downfall is in this room."

"Valkoris?"

He grimaced, as if her saying the name conjured up a bad memory. 

"Never mind. What are you doing here?"

"I got lost." She was still frazzled by the amazing view, and the words seemed to fall out of her mouth before she realized what was happening. 

"So where were you planning to go?"

"I was looking for Jura." No point hiding anything now.

"She's with the Colonel. The last time I saw them, they were having a sword fight."

Meia hesitated, not wanting to ask for any guidance, but knowing she would need to. As if reading her mind, he pushed himself off the wall.

"I'll take you there. The rendezvous will be soon anyway, we're almost there."

The blue-haired woman blinked at him, and he wordlessly pointed behind her. She turned again, and saw a small dot in the distance that seemed to be growing larger.

"Is that…the Nirvana?"

"Yes. Computer, track target vessel and magnify."

"Please specify."

He frowned briefly.

"Computer, target count."

"There are two artificial bodies approaching. One is identified from data files as the Mejele pirate ship, Nirvana. The other is unknown."

"Locate unknown and magnify."

Meia watched as yellow crosshairs seemed to appear and focus on a point in space behind the Nirvana. The space rapidly magnified, revealing a red and black machine rapidly gaining on the ship. The Dread pilot felt her heart lurch into her throat.

"What is that?!"


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: If you are reading this, give yourself a pat on the back for being meticulous.

**Author's notes**: Please review! If you're reading, give me an opinion. No need for name or anything. It's just going to take a minute or two, and honest feedback is greatly appreciated.

**DJ Madcat**: Fizzy? Would that be Fizzy 13? Funny how so many Vandread writers originate from the Philippines… I have never actually seen the movie 'Virus', so I can't compare between what they did there and what happened to Barnette, but I wouldn't use 'roboticize' as the word to describe it.

**Seravy**: About the attempt to focus on or 'write' Jura, one of the things I dislike most about the Vandread series is that Gonzo gives you almost no idea of the motivations or past of many characters, or even whether they have another, 'deeper' personality or not. The only character whose past I think was explored in real detail was Meia- and I believe that she could quite possibly be the most loved of Vandread's cast because people can identify with her more, or develop a stronger understanding of her persona. 

I even doubt my portrayal of Jura due to the lack of information in the series- does she have a deeper side, or is she exactly what she appears to be on the surface? Questions like: 'where the f**k did Parfet come from?' or 'what was Dita's past like, aside from the fact that she was an orphan?' or 'what happened to Duero that erased his personality?' all could use answering. Dita, Duero, Parfet, Jura, Barnette, Paiway, Bart, BC, and Magno all have nothing but black holes in their history or background (for the most part), and I think that prevents people from really connecting with them. I, for one, would like to have those blanks filled in. If Gonzo wants to expound some more on Vandread, I believe a short series depicting the pasts of various characters would be very well received.

**Renwar**: Thanks for your consistent reviewing- it helps to know at least someone will read it! ;) As for what happened to Barnette, you'll have to keep reading- it won't be known till later!

Well, those remarks were overly long…again, this will NOT be a fairy tale- lots of primary characters dying can be expected. Anyone you don't like? Review and I might design an extra-special fate for him/her! Anyone you DO like? Review and you may spare them from a gruesome end! Note that I will not save everyone even if everyone on earth reviews- I might only make one or two exceptions.

Chapter 9

Meia spun to face Renard.

"What is that?!"

"I don't know, but this is trouble. Computer, patch me through to the bridge."

"This is the bridge, commander."

"Bragg, get me a full scan on that bogey now. Get the ship to a stop, too."

"Yes, sir!"

"Boss! Something's incoming at high speed!" Belvedere glanced up at their leader. The old woman craned her neck to look down at the girl, a frown creasing her features.

"BC, what is it?"

The sub commander was sitting in one of the operator's seats, running a scan, but the systems were starting to go haywire. She lurched forwards as the Nirvana suddenly went in the outer space equivalent of a nosedive.

"Bart! What are you doing?"

"Hey hey! Don't blame me, the ship's doing it by itself!"

BC slammed her hand down on the panel in front of her, opening a channel to engineering.

"Parfet! What's wrong now?"

"The Pexis! It's going crazy! I can't do anything about it!" The chief engineer turned around to see Pyoro wildly thrashing about behind her, spluttering nonsense. She could sense a panic behind the machine, though, and felt a tremor of fear run through her.

_What's going on?_

The incoming object was a humanoid-shaped machine, bearing an extraordinary resemblance to Hibiki's customized Pexis-Vanguard. Meia squinted at it carefully, seeing several differences- it was blockier, with spikes sprouting from shoulders and head. The golden parts had turned red, and the white sections were now black. As she looked more closely at the red portions, she saw that they seemed to pulse, and flare, as though lit from within by some kind of fire. A sudden recognition of that color made her recoil, and she turned to Renard, who was watching with a kind of shocked fascination.

"You have to do something. Help them somehow!"

He slowly took his gaze off the approaching machine and met her eyes. 

"We can't. This ship has no interceptors, and the weapons mounted here are meant for naval combat, with craft of equal size."

The Dread leader turned back to the scene unfolding outside, feeling utterly helpless.

"Get the Dread pilots ready! Send them out as soon as possible!"

"We're being hampered by the Pexis' lack of cooperation! We're rerouting launch bays because it won't slow and allow for normal deployment!"

The bridge operators were shouting at each other and at BC as they feverishly attempted to bring up some form of defense. Things were not going well; with Meia, Jura, and Barnette not onboard and the casualties sustained by the earlier raid, the ship's Dread teams were crippled, lacking strong leaders. Bart could still neither slow nor stop the ship and Parfet was getting nothing out of her efforts to pull the Pexis under control. Meanwhile, their tenacious pursuer was drawing ever closer.

Putting on a sudden burst of speed, the machine shot forwards, impacting on the Nirvana's shields with a shower of sparks. Undaunted, it slammed both hands forward, bringing them into contact with the blue field. More blue lines ran out from its hands, spreading swiftly throughout the wall of energy. The blue suddenly changed into a blazing crimson, and the field melted away. 

Parfait was desperately working the controls in engineering.

"This is impossible! It used the same energy signature as ours to get in and neutralize the defensive field? But that should only be possible with anything that is familiar with our Pexis' signature!"

Her eyes slowly shifted back to the screens that showed the thing outside. It looked so familiar…

"Could that be Hibiki's-"

She was cut off as it landed on the Nirvana's hull, one hand latching on and digging itself a handhold in the metal plating. It reached out with the other hand and dragged itself onwards, moving towards a certain section of the ship with terrifying precision. Reaching the spot it needed to be in, the Vanguard raised one hand. A blazing spear of crimson energy burst out of its wrist, coalescing into a blade. It pulled the arm back, then thrust it into the ship's hull, carving into it with surgical care.

Parfet stumbled back, slamming into a panel. That was the only thing that saved her; she turned and grabbed it to steady herself just as the crackling blade smashed into engineering. She held on for dear life as the sudden, sucking vacuum lifted anything loose and carried it out into the void, dragging out many of her coworkers. The chief engineer managed to turn her head, watching in horror as the machine grabbed the edges of the tear and yanked, pulling the metal apart and allowing its torso access into the engineering area. It turned its monstrous head towards the Pexis, seeming to glower at the blue orb through the protective glass.

She ducked her head and screamed as it brought one massive arm forwards, one spike on its forearm tearing into her leg. Blood gushed out in a dizzying rate, dragged out into the vacuum, and she fought to hang on as her muscles began losing strength. She managed to raise her head again, and saw that the Vanguard had slammed its hand into the Pexis chamber. Now, washes of energy were pouring between the two, the suit and the Pexis.

Parfet flinched as the Vanguard actually roared, as if it was in pain. She saw the effect that attempting to touch the Pexis Plagma was having on it; metal melted and ran, minor explosions tore out of its face and chest, and exposed cables and pseudo-muscles tore free and seemed to writhe as if suffering. Despite all this, though, the machine implacably forced itself onwards, enduring the Pexis' attempts to defend itself. One outstretched hand finally clamped down on the glowing blue core, and somewhere behind her, the woozy Parfet heard Pyoro scream shrilly. The effects of the contact were quite obviously visible on both parties; she saw the Vanguard's hand and arm jerk as crackling waves of azure lightning ran over it. The armor covering the machine's hand melted away, and fake muscles and support cables sizzled and fried. Below that, the machine's metal framework began to crack and buckle as the amount of power running through it scorched it through. The Pexis, meanwhile, was convulsing violently, black shadows running throughout its blue surface, crimson lightning flaring around it.

The Vanguard roared again, but this time there was a note of triumph mixed in with the bellow. The Pexis jerked and writhed again before one final blast tore through the room, ripping everything in the engineering area apart in a frenzy of destructive power. Parfet was hurled into the panel she'd been hanging on to with enough force to shred both her body and the panel. She was dead before she registered that final shockwave.

Meia stared in horror as a series of brilliant flares tore through space around the Nirvana, red and blue lightning rising in arcs and running across the hull in dazzling patterns. Suddenly, she was a girl again, watching helplessly as all she'd ever cared for disappeared before her. The effect was tripled when the computer turned the observation deck's walls opaque, deciding that the amount of light was too much for its human occupants to endure without damage. The sudden darkness reminded her of the cramped, claustrophobic confines of the refugee ship as the doors closed and it took off…

She started violently when she realized someone was shaking her hard. She came out of her private cocoon, seeing Renard in front of her. His hands were planted firmly on her shoulders, and he was shaking her like a rag doll. She reacted immediately, pushing his hands away and stumbling backwards, landing on her bottom. The blue-haired pilot realized she was panting, and sweat trickled down her forehead and into her face and eyes. 

Renard stared down at the woman in front of him. She had the wide-eyed look of shock he'd seen so many times before in combat.

"Get a hold of yourself! This is no time for theatrics."

His voice was strict, harsh, full of authority, but he himself was rattled. 

"Get up!"

She pushed herself back to her feet.

"What happened to it?"

Meia spun back to face outside, but saw nothing but a little floating debris and the eternal expanse of stars. The Stone Soldier glanced back at her.

"I don't know…it's gone."

Jura was aware that her throat was hoarse from shouting, but she couldn't remember a thing she'd said. Across the table from her, Conrad Kurtz watched the monitor with equal confusion.

The sickbay was a cacophony of voices. Kroeger was goggling at the screen, while Kyra, Hibiki, Paiway, and Dita all gabbled with each other, asking all sorts of inane questions and repeating what they'd seen countless times in shock. Gascogne looked equally dumbfounded, but wasn't talking, at least.

Two hours later, Kurtz had assembled his ranking subordinates, as well as the Nirvana crew contingent.

"What the fuck just happened? Varius, tell me you know what happened."

The technician just shrugged, unable to explain.

"Renard? Corbulo? Prentis? Any of you have any explanations?"

No response. The Colonel looked at the Nirvana crew, but they all shrugged or shook their heads as well.

"Alright, now what the hell do we do?"

Renard looked up. 

"From information we got from the facility where we were backstabbed, there is another base that was readied for the express purpose of holding those things. That seems to be the best place to go if you want to continue with this."

"Ah, damn it. I suppose that we're in this too deep to back out now."

Magno groaned softly. Her head was pounding. A voice made her come more alert.

"Awake? Good…"


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER:** Now time for a piece of completely useless and stupidly obvious information: Japanese people come from Japan! For a real disclaimer, refer to chapters 1-7.

**Author's note:** Please review! Be warned, though, this is not going to have a happy ending- lots of people are going to die before it's over. One reader already found it too gloomy.

Seravy: Sorry if I made it too confusing. I'll try to stop that.

Chapter 10

Dita, Paiway, and Gascogne were still in the infirmary, brooding over what had happened. Hibiki had gone out for one reason or another, and Gascogne had convinced Dita not to follow. Kroeger was also off in a meeting with the mercenaries' senior staff, leaving Kyra alone with the three women. She was randomly shuffling Gascogne's cards, whistling abstractedly. Paiway watched until she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Hey! Could you stop whistling and acting like nothing's wrong?!"

Kyra blinked at her.

"What's your problem? Jeez, all of you are so uptight…"

"What's my problem?  My home just vanished, and then you're whistling there like nothing's happened! You don't understand what my problem is, because you can't!"

The mercenary's face hardened angrily. 

"Don't talk to me like that. Do you know how many soldiers this ship originally carried? The regiment was composed of ten thousand men. _Ten thousand!_ Now guess how many are left, girl. Fifteen hundred, out of those ten thousand. Don't tell me that I don't know what it's like to lose people I care about. At the very least, there's still a chance that your crewmates are still alive. Do you know how to bring people back from the dead?"

The nurse lowered her eyes, unable to meet Kyra's fierce gaze. The volatile mercenary heaved the cards at her, making Paiway flinch as they scattered all over her head.

"Damn it, I don't have to stay cooped up in here with you."

She sprang off the bench and stormed out.

The door to Kurtz's office hissed open and Renard walked in, coming to a halt in front of the commander's desk. Kurtz quietly put a picture frame he'd been holding back into a drawer and closed it gently. The Captain looked at his superior quietly, waiting for him to compose himself. He knew who was in that picture; the Colonel had displayed it proudly before they had been forced to leave Valkoris. 

"Sometimes," the Old Man began, "it gets harder to forget."

"Ana never blamed you for your choices in life. She understood you were a soldier. You did raise her as well as you knew how…"

Renard's words prompted a bitter chuckle.

"It was a rude shock, bringing those women onboard- Jura bears more than a slight resemblance to her, in appearance and temperament. I suppose it's the way that whoever runs the universe chose to taunt me."

Renard said nothing more. Ana, Kurtz's granddaughter, had been left behind during the evacuation. The Old Man had raised her ever since both her parents had died in an accident, and from what he'd gleaned from occasional conversations, Ana had been a _very _spoiled girl. The Stone Soldier assumed that putting her under the same roof as the strict, disciplinarian Kurtz had started a titanic struggle of wills that could have had only one possible outcome. It was not easy getting a psychological edge over a veteran of half a dozen major wars.

The Colonel shook off his memories. 

"Enough about that. Thanks for humoring an old man. You need something?"

"Two of the pri-…guests want to talk with you."

"Alright then." The Old Man scowled suspiciously at Renard. "Why didn't you handle them? You've certainly been seizing the initiative quite often these days."

"You _are _still the leader after all. I disobeyed the last set of orders only because there was a chance of capturing them instead of killing them, and I would prefer taking enemies alive."

Kurtz sighed quietly. "You know I gave those orders for the good of the unit. I just didn't want to risk losing any more men."

"I know. That's why you're still in charge."

That got Renard a raised eyebrow, but the older man couldn't tell whether he was serious or not. He shook his head. 

"Alright, send them in then. What's our ETA to the system?"

"Four hours."

Kurtz nodded, and Renard walked out. A moment later, Jura and Meia came in.

"Have a seat. So, ladies, what can I help you with?"

Jura glanced at Meia, who spoke first.

"I know that you're going to go after whoever is behind this."

The Old Man nodded grudgingly. 

"Defense Minister Haakon of Meranos. He's got a secondary facility prepped for storage of your stolen craft, and that's where we're going. What's it mean to you?"

Meia seemed reluctant to speak, so Jura took over.

"Since you're going to be there anyway, we need you to help us recover the Dreads and the Nirvana, if it's there."

"That would complicate matters. I'd rather just do things as easily as possible and blow anything I see to rubble."

The two women exchanged glances. Jura licked her lips and leaned forward. 

"Listen…you're mercenaries, right? We could probably work out some sort of deal. Magno can pay you for your trouble, and if Tarak and Mejele are made aware of the fact that you could have stopped another invasion, I'm sure that they'll reward you as well…"

She was cut off as the mercenary leader roared with laughter.

"Very good! You may not be half bad at diplomacy…there's only one problem."

Both women leaned forwards slightly. He could easily see the tension in them.

"Surety. After what happened the last time we tried to collect our pay, I'm not inclined to take chances again. So, obviously, we need something as insurance, to make sure you deliver."

Jura relaxed a little.

"If you can recover the Dreads, you can keep them until you get paid."

Meia shot Jura a deadly glare, but the blonde shrugged. Kurtz raised his eyebrows.

"Done, then. I'm pretty sure that those things are very important to you."

Outside, Meia faced off with her sub leader. 

"What are you doing? Offering up the Dreads as surety?"

"Relax, Meia- they've got no use for them. None of them can pilot them, so they'd be more than happy to give them up. I think we can trust the old man. It's that other fellow I'm not too sure about…" 

She trailed off as she saw Meia looking daggers at her. Jura slowly turned to see Renard standing at the rear wall, watching with polite interest. She groaned inwardly.

"I…I meant the technician guy. Yeah, him. Well… see you!"

She wandered out of sight. The mercenary captain watched her go, before turning back to Meia. 

"Is there anything else you need?"

She shook her head and started off, not wanting to rely on any help. She just hoped she remembered the way back. He watched her go, then walked back into the office.

Hibiki was wandering aimlessly, too distracted wondering what had happened to the Nirvana to notice he was hopelessly lost. He came to a halt as someone planted a hand on his shoulder, yanking him back. He glared up, to see Varius the tech glaring right back at him. 

"Hey, what the hell are you doing here? You're not supposed to be in the drop bays."

He paused for a minute as a comm.-bead in his ear came to life, relaying a message to him. 

"Well, that changes things… so you guys are our employers now, eh? I guess you can stay then."

Hibiki blinked.

"Huh?"

Later, the Vanguard pilot was watching curiously as Varius directed the preparations for the assault the mercenaries were going to unleash when they arrived. 

His natural curiosity overcame his worries and he looked at the technician's notepad. 

"What are you loading?"

"Eh? You wouldn't understand, kid." Varius reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He put one in his mouth, then began to put it away before pausing and offering it to Hibiki. The pilot blinked at it, then cautiously reached inside and pulled one out. The technician lit his own, then lit Hibiki's. The young pilot tried taking a drag, but choked while Varius looked on in amusement.

Hibiki dropped the burning cigarette on the ground and stamped it out. The tech looked back at him.

"Hey, be careful with that, make sure it's totally out. It could ignite the ammo.'

The Vanguard pilot stared at him, boggling. "You SMOKE near ammunition?"

He shrugged in reply.

"So long as you take care, nothing bad happens. Now stay there and keep quiet, I've got work."

"Hey, I understand this stuff! I used to be a tech myself, you know!"

"Really now? Why don't you show me then?"

Hibiki found himself down with the other men, busily operating mechanized cranes and moving cartons to and from the area. Varius stood beside him, keeping up a running commentary.

"That thing is an assault pod. It's an unmanned drop pod used to land before normal troops and blow everything away or at least get their heads down- it's basically a flying gun nest. We use 'em to cover orbital drops."

Hibiki watched the oblong object move past on the crane. The mercenary technician continued talking.

"You can see the configuration by the markings. That one means it's equipped with pulse lasers- scatters a hell of a lot of las shots everywhere when it's deployed."

"That thing coming in now is a mobile shield. Unfolds into cover so tough it can take hits from just about any anti-infantry weapon, while remaining so light around half a dozen men can use it."

"That crate over there is full of Hunter drones. Small, fast, maneuverable, all packing an interior explosive and assorted combat blades. Hard to kill and very damaging. That over there is-"

"Wait a second! What do you need all this stuff for?"

Varius looked at him almost pityingly.

"What do we need it all for? We use it to blow the crap out of anything in the way, that's what we need it for. Never seen a real war before, kid? You will soon."


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: **Lalalalalalalalalala….

**Author's Note: **Again, this will not be a happy story. Well… maybe. I might change the ending part depending on my mood. I actually never said that the Nirvana was destroyed, sorry if I conveyed that impression.

DJ Madcat: Paiway? Hey… good idea!

Meia hesitated in front of the door, then reached out and knocked solidly. 

"Come in."

The portal slid open and she entered, glancing around the briefing room. The mercenary unit's officers were gathered around a table, with a deactivated hologram projector in the center. Kurtz, who'd been standing at the table's head, raised his eyebrows briefly.

"Is there something we can do for you, Miss Gisborn?"

"Yes." Meia keenly felt the weight of the stares she was getting from all around the table. She couldn't help but feel a bit like she'd just walked into a shark tank. All the officers were men, which also set off a small warning alarm in the back of her head. She'd thought that meeting the relatively harmless trio of Hibiki, Bart, and Duero had eased her problems with the opposite sex, but that feeling of comfort was partly because the three of them had never been in control.

This was another breed entirely.

"I want to know exactly how you're planning to get the Dreads back."

The Old Man glanced down at the figure sitting beside him. Renard raised his head slightly, the crimson glow of his fake eye again seeming unnatural in the darkened room. He leaned back in his chair and appeared to consider carefully before answering.

"I don't know."

The Dread pilot didn't show any reaction, but inwardly, she was _really_ starting to worry. _What has Jura gotten us into now?_

The mercenary captain continued.

"We'll need more accurate information of the area first. We'll arrive, reconnoiter, and then make our plans. Military operations hinge on intelligence."

She relaxed a little.

"I'd like to be present when you actually start planning." _Someone had to make sure these people didn't screw up or backstab them._

Renard didn't answer, instead shifting his gaze back to Kurtz, who nodded.

"Of course. I'll send someone to call you when we get to planning."

Gascogne, Dita, and Paiway sat watching as Kroeger and the rest of the regiment's corpsmen made preparations for going into the field, some readying the sickbay to accommodate patients while others laid out gear and equipment to be carried down onto the planet. Everything was done with the crisp professionalism of highly trained and experienced experts. There was little consultation, and everyone seemed to know what to do without being told. Gascogne considered the anarchy of their own infirmary before Duero had arrived, and silently reflected that it was a good thing the male doctor had not been ejected with the rest of the crew when the Ikazuchi had been originally captured. Paiway was examining the equipment, while Dita just looked bored. All three of them glanced up when the door hissed open and Meia entered.

"Leader!" Dita bounced onto her feet. "Have you seen Hibiki?"

Meia looked slightly puzzled. "No. Is he missing?"

The red-haired girl nodded, and the Dread leader sighed.

"He must have gotten lost somewhere. We'll need to get someone to look for him." She sat down and folded her arms. "We don't need any more people wandering off or getting into trouble. Where's Jura?"

Gascogne shrugged. 

"I thought she was with you."

The other woman just scowled and leaned back further in her chair. 

Hibiki, meanwhile, was tagging along behind Varius in a tour of the ship's very extensive armory. The place was filled with rack after rack of weaponry or ammunition, all carefully labeled and ordered. 

"Looks like it's a lot of work just to keep everything all logged in."

"Yeah, it is, but we don't want Renard to show up down here when some grunt gets his face burned off popping an incendiary grenade he thought was a smoke bomb. We've got time anyway." 

The young pilot noted to his dismay that the technician was still smoking as they walked past cases of ammunition. 

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"Smoking like that! This place is a death trap for cigarettes!"

"Kid, you think anyone with a brain would put ammunition in a non-fireproof case? Watch." To illustrate his point, the mercenary flipped the cigarette towards the nearest row of ammo, all of which were clearly marked EXPLOSIVE. Hibiki stared in terror, then desperately lunged forward and grabbed the smoking cigarette, bouncing it into the air again when it burned him. He blew on his palm as the smoke dropped to the floor, then ground his heel on it, putting it out.

"Are you crazy?"

"No, you're crazy. What kind of a dumbass would catch a lighted cigarette like that?" Shaking his head, Varius strode on, leaving the flabbergasted pilot behind.

Kyra stared down the scope of her rifle, fixing on the head of the mannequin standing thirty meters away, before huffing angrily and lowering the gun. 

"Something wrong?" She looked up to see the angular form of Corbulo, one of the highest ranking of Renard's lieutenants, standing over her. "Don't tell me you can't hit that thing."

"What! Of course I can." The woman raised the rifle again, then pulled the trigger, blowing the practice target's head off. "It's not easy finding practice for a sniper rifle on a ship, though."

"Yeah, I see what you mean. There's not enough space to make miles of training ground for you to sight across." The lieutenant settled down. "You've been making quite a fuss recently- what's it all about?"

"So you're going to be the 'good cop'? It's nothing big." She waved him off. "I'm just cranky, and tired of all this crap. I wish we could just settle down somewhere and quit all this stuff. We're still losing men every operation we pull off, and we're not getting anything from it. The Old Man should just sell off everything we've got, divide up the loot, and let everyone off to live how they want."

"Not that easy, girl." Corbulo sat back and laced his hands behind his head. "Most of the guys have got nothing left except for the regiment- scattering 'em to the winds wouldn't be the way to go. Probably all just end up serving as mercenaries somewhere anyway. At least this way the Old Man and Renard can take care of everyone. What're you going to do? We're soldiers with no place to go."

"Yeah." She lowered her head. "I didn't sign up for this, though. I don't want to be some damn warlord's bootlicker. Maybe we should just adopt a planet." She chuckled bitterly.

"Or we could go back home." Now this made her head come up. Kyra tilted her head and stared up at the lieutenant. 

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nah, I never kid." He turned to look her in the eye. "I'll tell you, there hasn't been a day that me or any of the others haven't dreamed about going back and kicking those filthy invaders off our planet. Not that we could, but well… seeing the way we are now, what's left to lose?"

"Hmph." Kyra shook her head and returned to staring at the floor. "Maybe, just maybe…"

"Huh?"

"Those machines from the Nirvana…think they could make a difference?"

Now Corbulo was frowning. "What makes you think they would?"

"I dunno. Just thinking."

The two lapsed back into silence.

Jura entered the infirmary, toweling off her thick yellow hair. Meia sat back upright at her appearance. 

"Where've you been?"

"Taking a bath. They've got a great tub here…"

"Tub?" Kroeger wandered over, instantly suspicious.

"Oh, you know, the one a few doors up…" She gestured vaguely. "It's pretty big, and comfortable. It even has handrails."

The medic's face twisted into an expression of disbelief. 

"That's for physical therapy!"

Jura shrugged indifferently.

"I was using it for therapy. It's very relaxing, you know." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Your crew is pretty rude, though- there was a whole crowd of them at the window, so I had to close it."

The mercenary opened his mouth, then closed it again. He stared for a moment longer, then grinned evilly.

"Well, I hope you checked if the chemical systems were off, then. You know, you could wake up tomorrow morning with blue skin, or wrinkles, or maybe peeling…" He trailed off and chuckled at the horrified look on her face.

"You are joking." Jura was now glaring flat out at him, and he laughed openly.

"Sorry, but no. It really could happen…be more careful with what you screw around with next time, huh? And ask before you use stuff."

The blonde opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out and she shut it again. Meia cut in at that.

"Jura, have you seen Hibiki?"

"Eh? No. Why, don't you know where he is? I have more important things to do than keep tabs on people, you know."

"Well, someone has to find him. And tell me before you wander off by yourself again."

She was about to continue, but the door opened and Renard walked in.

"We're here and ready for a briefing. Please come with me."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Vandread. I own Gonzo though.

**Author's Notes: **I recently read over my past chapters and suddenly noticed that I had forgotten to add chapter titles after a while. This is due to my lazy imagination and the sheer number of chapters this story has reached. I also noted quite a few grammatical errors in the past chapters, which is ironic as that's my biggest turnoff when reading. Lacking a proofreader I guess I'll just have to go over my work another 2 or 3 times to make sure nothing sneaks by. I'm also now using a thesaurus to keep from recycling the same old words over and over.

Fanfic Reader: I see. Well, I deleted a couple of the extra reviews. Tedious work though.

Thanks to all the others who reviewed. Your comments are appreciated. Seems no one likes Paiway… =)

Chapter 12

Meia, Jura and Gascogne marched down the hallway behind Renard, each absorbed in her own thoughts. All felt varying levels of apprehension about the meeting that was about to take place.

_Would the mercenaries give up if the base was too heavily defended?_

_Were the rest of their crewmates on the Nirvana all right? What had happened to the Nirvana?_

Their pondering was put on hold as Renard reached the briefing room's door, which slid open to reveal the full complement of the regiment's officers. The mercenary captain showed them to a row of chairs specially prepared for them before moving to the head of the room, where Kurtz was waiting. The colonel glanced at his second in command and nodded briefly.

"Let's begin."

Renard flicked a switch, darkening the room before activating a large holoprojector behind him. A three-dimensional image of the planet flashed into existence, complete with lines detailing longitude and latitude that also cut the planet into various sectors in a grid pattern.

He waited until the hologram had completed a full rotation before hitting another switch, stopping its movement. 

"We've sent out a number of unmanned stealth surveillance drones to reconnoiter the surface. Based on energy emissions and infrared scanning, as well as images sent back from the scouts, we designated this planet as Type IV, with a civilization level of 0. Human settlements have been detected, but they're scattered and are apparently just getting through the Iron Age. More scans discovered a crashed colony ship resting in a huge impact crater in this area. Our information suggests it's inactive." a red dot appeared on the map as he indicated it. "As far as we've seen, the biggest city on the surface is where the Meranos base is located. The base itself seems rather small, with only a single ship in orbit as its defense. All this data points to the assumption that the facility is a secret operation, kept at minimal size to prevent others in the Meranos government from noticing. That's good, because it means we're only dealing with a rogue faction here, not an entire planetary government."

Another red dot appeared, marking the city. 

"We can also assume, however, that should the planet be attacked, reinforcements will arrive in a short period of time. Therefore, this operation will have to be carried out with a great deal of urgency and precision. We have to land, recover the craft, and then extract everything before a distress signal can reach any help."

One officer raised his hand.

"Our heavier landing craft can probably take on the fighters and still get back into orbit, but we only have a pair of those left, and they'll have to make two or three trips if we also deploy heavy support for our troops. Are you only going to use infantry and hope that their equipment will be enough to take care of the base's defenders?"

Renard rubbed the side of his face, considering the question.

"We can utilize the drones to 'spot' for our orbital batteries and crack the base open with an ordnance strike, followed by a full drop of shock troopers directly into the camp. The problem with that is we could also damage or even destroy the objectives. Another option for us is not to use a planetary bombardment and instead drop assault pods to cover a landing inside the facility's perimeter, removing the necessity of utilizing heavy weapons batteries or armored vehicles to fight our way in. The thing is, that tactic is risky- with no inside information we won't be able to know if they have contingency plans for that sort of assault, or if the assault pods will be able to force the defenders to retreat or keep out of sight."

Corbulo stared at the datapad in front of him, going over the limited intelligence they had.

"So in other words, our best choice is to take it one step at a time by landing troops and supporting batteries and then working our way in."

"That's the gist of it. Of course, that method is also the one that requires the greatest amount of time."

"And what about their naval defense? We still have to neutralize that cruiser in orbit, and we also have to worry about any additional anti-ship weapons they have on the planet itself."

"There's no evidence that they have any planetary defense installations, though it's possible that they have a silo or two set up in remote areas. So far though, we haven't found anything."

"Doesn't mean it's not there."

Renard nodded. 

"Correct."

Meia was amazed that the mercenaries had not yet considered the simplest solution to their logistical problems. 

"What if we pilot the Dreads?"

Everyone turned to stare at her and her two companions, almost as if they'd forgotten they were even there. The blue-haired pilot continued without hesitating.

"That'd solve the problem of the transports having to make multiple trips. If we fly the Dreads out instead of you having to load them and then unload and come back for your equipment in a second trip, we'll get things done faster."

She watched Renard and Kurtz share a long look, knowing that the answer would come from these two, no matter what their subordinates thought of the idea. The Old Man cleared his throat.

"Well, we _could _let you do that, but…" he let the thought hang in the air, as though reluctant to finish.

"But what?" Meia locked eyes with him now, challenging him directly. The slightly bemused look on his face faded and he matched her stare.

"But we can't rely on you to just come back if that happens."

A brief laugh broke the sudden tension. Heads craned to look at Gascogne, who was grinning.

"You actually can count on them to come back. Paiway and I aren't going anywhere, and they're not going to leave us."

Meia was faintly annoyed that the Chief of the Register was speaking for her, but it was true, so she said nothing.

Kurtz considered it. They certainly didn't seem like the sort who would abandon their crewmates and friends. He'd always trusted in his ability to judge people, and his experience told him to go with his gut. He glanced over at Renard, but the other man's face was blank.

_Great. Count on him to have no opinion when I actually ask for one._

Varius was going over the final inventory of equipment readied for use when the door hissed open and the Stone Soldier marched in, followed by the three Dread pilots and Gascogne, who really had no business there but had tagged along to take a look at the ship's military supplies.

"What's up, boss?"

Wordlessly, the captain handed him a slate with the mission specifics on it before walking past in the direction of the section where they stored extra personnel equipment. The others trailed in his wake, though Meia stopped when she noticed Hibiki watching the munitions officers going through prepared ammunition, counting boxes.

"Where have you been?"

"Who, me? I've been right here." The belligerent pilot crossed his arms.

"Next time, tell someone where you're going before you go."

"Hrmph." Thankfully, he said nothing more, surprising her a little.

"Come on, you'll probably need to get ready with the rest of us."

Inside the armory section, Renard was punching information into an interface located beside the door. Each pilot gave him their body sizes in turn, and he directed them along the rows of shelves to a suit of armor that would fit them. Hibiki was forced to use armor molded for a woman, though, as there were no male types his size.

Gascogne studied the well-organized and labeled shelves. 

"There's a lot of extra armor here."

"There were a lot of casualties." Renard's answer came in a clipped tone, and she decided not to push it. The mercenary raised his voice, addressing all of them.

"This armor is a Valkoris Aegis All-Purpose variant. It covers your whole body with shock-absorbing plates that are fully insulated. It provides protection from impacts, explosions, electricity, and is highly resistant to laser weaponry due to certain silicates used in its construction. It can protect you from extreme heat of up to 1000 degrees Celsius and from chemical agents, biological agents, and radiation. It's also very lightweight, but is not fully powered, meaning you'll have to carry it without servo-assisted support like our heavier combat suits. The helmet comes with a respirator, a communications link, infrared and low-light optical scanners and filters that protect you from extremes of light or sound. The armor comes with a processor that will inform you of damage, a GPS and locator that connects to the ship's scanners to keep you aware of where you are, and a medical system that uses various interfaces to keep track of your heart rate, metabolism, and other vital signs. It also has a small field medical kit and injection system."

"The exterior plates can 'lock' their joints to fully absorb impact and keep you from breaking something during a fall. The processor controls it and the impulses move in a thousandth of a second, meaning it will very rarely interfere with your own movement. In case of malfunction, there is an override that will kill the system and let you act freely."

"Now, is there anyone here who isn't trained to use firearms?"

Hibiki raised his hand. 

"We'll get you a sidearm, at least. All right, come with me."

He led the way into another section filled with racks of handheld weaponry. 

"Since these weapons will only be used in the most severe circumstances as you're not supposed to be involved in the fighting, there's no need for anything fancy."

He pulled out an ugly-looking, snub-nosed weapon.

"This is a Valkoris subgun. It sprays needle-sharp plastic shards. It has a high rate of fire, almost no recoil, and very little noise." He demonstrated how to reload it, how to hold it, and where the safety was. Turning to Hibiki, he added a few words.

"There's no time for you to try fire it on a range, but it's simple to use. With the rate it shoots even panic fire can form effective suppressive fire, so just spray to get their heads down and then run for it."

He gave them all a while to fiddle about with their equipment and figure out what everything did, then checked his chronometer. 

"We'll be starting in five minutes. Let's go."


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **I honestly don't know why I type this. In the first place everyone ought to know that I don't own the rights to Vandread or I'd be busy making a sequel…or perhaps a prequel. I'm not sure exactly why I'm busy wasting time and space with this pointless deliberation either. Oh well, just showing everyone that I'm…imbalanced, I guess. Or perhaps eccentric. No matter.

**Author's Notes: **Well, it's been a while, and I apologize to anyone who was impatient for an update (perhaps I'm just flattering myself, though) but I was off on vacation for a VERY long time. Well, without further ado, on with the story…

Chapter 13

Meia grunted briefly as she pulled the torso armor down over her head, settling it as snugly as possible. The fit was good, a bit loose perhaps, but it would do. She carefully fixed the joints and pushed a control on the forearm, sealing it against her body. The last thing she had to put on was the helmet, but she decided to put it on later, to allow others to recognize her more easily. Somewhere behind her, Jura grumbled something under her breath.

"These things are tight."

The blue-haired pilot didn't bother answering, focusing her mind on the task ahead. It seemed simple enough- Renard had said that they wouldn't be in the battle itself and would only be brought into the compound when it was secured. Still, she knew that battle plans had a way of changing very rapidly, and often in a way that the commander didn't like. Well, at least it wasn't her problem.

"Are you ready?"

She looked up to see a bulky figure standing in the doorway of the squad room, his silhouette outlined by the brighter lights streaming in behind him. Jura scowled at the interruption.

"We're changing here."

The heavily armored man's shoulders rose in a brief shrug. "There'd be no problems if you actually changed fast. We've got no time to be waiting for slackers. We need to be in the drop pods before we engage the enemy ship, and that'll be in under two minutes."

Meia glanced back at her two subordinates, seeing Dita only half-dressed and Jura involved in trying to tighten an armor seal that refused to cooperate. She sighed and turned back to the waiting man.

"We'll be done soon."

"You'd better." The outline turned around and strode away, letting the door slide closed behind it.

"Why do all of these mercenaries have to be so impatient? They're either ice-cold like that guy or Renard, or they're brainless jokers like that Varius fellow." Jura threw up her hands in disgust. "Did you know that that brainless technician tried to make a move on me?"

Meia glanced back expressionlessly, making a brief motion to spur the other two women into dressing faster.

"How would you know? Maybe he was only joking. These are different people from you're used to, after all. Besides…he's a man."

"Don't you think I would know?" 

"Whatever. Hurry up."

Up on the command deck, everyone was in a frenzy of activity. Coordinators called out the status of various units and equipment while other operators continuously updated intelligence data from their unmanned scouts or projected information on the orbiting enemy craft onto the holo-projector that rose from the center of the bridge. One man turned towards Conrad Kurtz, listening to a voice coming through an earpiece.

"All participating squads report they're ready. The only one that isn't is…Nefzen's squad."

The Old Man nodded. 

"Makes sense. That's the squad the pilots are attached to…it's only natural they won't be able to suit up quite as fast."

"Orders, sir?"

"We can delay a little longer, but have Sergeant Nefzen hurry them up."

"I understand he's been trying…"

Kurtz shrugged, a brief smile flitting over his face.

"Women."

Renard Gilchrist, meanwhile, was standing outside his squad's drop pod entrance, frowning at the girl standing in front of him.

"What do you mean, he can't make it?"

"Well, he got pretty sick all of a sudden and now he's crammed in the bathroom. Kroeger says that he can flush his stomach and give him a few drugs, but otherwise he won't be combat-ready."

"This is awfully convenient timing." He glowered at Kyra.

"I know. Just imagine, one of your snipers comes down with stomach trouble just before a major op." She was pretending to have misunderstood his meaning. He folded his arms.

"And just what do you think I should do about this?"

She stiffened her back professionally, staring straight ahead of her like a model soldier.

"Sir! I don't know, sir!"

"Cut the crap." He let her know by his tone that he meant it. She relaxed and gave him a pleading look.

"Look, I know I screwed up the last job, but I can do this one! I'm not even going to be in position to screw anything up here! I'll be miles away from the combat zone carrying a sniper rifle! I don't want to be Mop Girl for life."

He regarded her for a long time, then turned, waving a hand in dismissal.

"Get suited up."

As he reentered the pod, he listened to her footsteps flying off, hoping he hadn't made a mistake.

"Nefzen, what's your status?"

"Not yet ready, commander. Those women couldn't move at the speed of a snail if I set them on fire."

The Stone Soldier shook his head briefly. He'd assigned the pilots of the Nirvana to Sergeant Nefzen's squad for the mission. The big NCO was experienced and would know to take care of his charges instead of running off into the battle, but he wasn't the most patient man in the regiment- far from it, in fact.

"Report when you're ready for launch."

"Of course." The other man's tone indicated he did not need or appreciate the reminder. Renard ignored it, instead glancing down at the rest of his command unit.

This plan is already running into difficulties and we haven't even started yet. What's going to happen when I launch that bunch into a war zone?

The Meranos patrol cruiser was busy doing its regular sensor sweep when one of the crewmen noticed an anomaly.

"Captain! We've got an energy signature closing fast. Readings indicate it's a ship of an unknown design."

"How big is it?"

"Sir…it's as large as a carrier."

"Damn it!"

Meia, Jura, Dita and Hibiki finally appeared at the launch bay, catching the attention of Sergeant Nefzen, the leader of the squad assigned to accompany them. The big man strode over, running a hand through his close-cropped hair while scowling heavily.

"Finally! I was wondering if I had to go back and drag you out." He looked between Hibiki, Jura, and Dita. "How the hell do the three of you expect to get your helmets on?"

All three blinked and looked down at the headgear. It did seem too small to hold their long hair…Jura tried pulling it on and pushing her blonde locks under it, but it was far too thick to fit. Hibiki and Dita met similar results when they tried the same thing. The Valkoris armor was different from the space suits they wore as pirates; the helmet was totally separated from the rest of the armor and locked onto the seals at their throats. There was no way to get long hair in under it.

"Damn it, get over here." The sergeant drew a combat knife from his belt and grabbed a fistful of Jura's hair, dragging her back while she squealed in surprise. Before she could react further, he sliced the wickedly sharp edge through her hair, chopping most of it off. While the pilot goggled wordlessly at him, he strode past and repeated the process on Dita, who was also too stunned to react. When he turned to Hibiki, though, the male pilot scrambled backwards.

"No way! Stay away from me."

He stopped when a hand came in from behind, shoving him into the sergeant. The soldier who'd pushed him grinned at him while Nefzen hacked Hibiki's hair short as well.

"Sorry kid, but you don't have a choice."

The sergeant discarded his handful of Hibiki's black hair and turned back to the three Dread pilots, sheathing his knife again. 

"You're late enough as it is! Get in the drop pod!"

Jura stepped forward, her face turning crimson.

"Not so fast, you barbaric-"

"NOW!"

She hopped backwards from the hulking sergeant, then stumbled back another few steps as he shoved her roughly.

"No more back talking! Get in there before I REALLY get angry!"

Dita squeaked and backed away from the frightening visage of the big soldier, then obediently turned and climbed into the pod. Meia followed her in, dragging Hibiki after. The sergeant tossed Jura in as if she were only a sack of grain before climbing in himself. He pressed a switch beside the door and the portal hissed shut. He activated his ear bead.

"This is Nefzen. They're here and we're ready to go."

"Acknowledged, sergeant. You were the only ones we were waiting for."

Meia settled herself into an empty seat, mimicking the other soldiers and yanking a pair straps over herself and securing them. Jura sat on her other side, quite obviously fuming but silent for the moment. Dita was on the opposite wall, fingering her shortened hair while Hibiki tried to adjust the seat straps to accommodate his size beside her. Renard's face blinked onto the pod's single monitor.

"Just checking on you four. Make sure you follow Sergeant Nefzen's instructions all the time, understand? You're not supposed to be involved in the fighting."

Jura sat forward. 

"Hey! Cutting my hair wasn't part of the deal! You didn't say anything about hair cutting!"

He looked mystified, then his remaining eye lit up when Nefzen waved a helmet in the background.

"Blame your leader. She's the one who volunteered you."

The blonde glanced at her seatmate, but decided not to say anything when Meia simply looked at her. The Dread leader turned back to the screen.

"So what now?"

"We're going in hard and fast. We'll get in, land boarders on the enemy ship, then begin an orbital drop. Just sit tight until you hit the ground."

"You're going to just charge in at their ship? Isn't that dangerous?"

"Hardly. A patrol ship like that won't have a single weapon that can even scratch our hull. This is a close support ship- our armor's thicker than most capital ships are because it's designed to take the brunt of any enemy fire while landing or boarding other craft. Leave the naval combat to us."

The Meranos patrol ship had standing orders to hold orbit over the planet; the captain couldn't countermand his orders and so was forced to make a stand against a vessel roughly one and a half times as large as his own. True to Renard's word, the lighter craft's small batteries proved totally incapable of even shaking the thick-hulled mercenary transport, allowing their ship to get in close while sustaining very little damage.

At close range, the Valkoris transport's batteries were used to devastating effect in a savage broadside, the ranks of heavy guns and short-ranged torpedo tubes covering the opposing vessel's hull with a storm of explosions with salvoes of unrelenting fire. The first few volleys all but crippled the overmatched scout, leaving it almost helpless as the larger ship carefully maneuvered closer and launched a slew of boarding craft. 

At almost the same time, the drop pod launching bays on the transport's opposite side also opened, deploying the first wave of drop pods- unmanned assault platforms.

The attack had begun.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Vandread. 

**Author's Notes: **Finally, back to work here. I apologize for the incredibly long period between the last couple of chapters. I've been busy on other things. 

Actually, to be honest I just haven't gotten around to it. Hopefully this burst of industriousness will last long enough to finally get this story finished.

Chapter 14

The clamor of the alarm bell broke through the haze of shouting and the sounds of equipment being hastily pulled on. Men rushed in every direction, calling to their comrades as they attached chinstraps or adjusted sword belts. General Metraiya stood removed from the general confusion, standing on the ramparts outside the army barracks. His stomach tightened uncomfortably as he watched the trails of fire fall from the sky, stretching across the semi-darkness of the predawn sky as before crashing to earth at a point hidden from his vision by the buildings between his vantage point and their landing site. He knew without a doubt, though, that the points of red-orange light that left tracks of fire were landing at the palace of the People From The Sky. Of that, there could be no doubt.

"Lord General!"

Metraiya turned to see his aide dashing up, hastily pulling on his helmet. The man's face was as pale as Metraiya had ever seen him, and the officer could plainly see the fear in his eyes as he looked up to watch the flaring lights descend from the dark heavens.

"What are they, Lord General?"

"What else could they be, Nashen? Demons come to devour our people. The prophecies they gave us have come true."

Nashen licked his lips.

"But-but surely the ones who descended from Heaven could defeat them. Did they not say they came to protect our people?"

"Aye, they did indeed. However, they also did say that we must be ready to fight by their side when we are called. The Blessed Ones have ordered me to prepare our warriors to defend the city."

At the other end of the city, though, an entirely different situation was taking place at the Meranos holding facility. 

"Damn it! Where'd they come from?"

"Emergency message from Captain Caeris! Boarders have seized control of his ship!"

"Get a message to Minister Haakon now!"

"We're trying, sir!"

The CO turned angrily to face a pair of trembling officers. 

"What's the situation outside?"

"There have been a large number of landings around the base perimeter, sir. They appear to be some kind of unmanned drop pod mounted with fast-firing anti-infantry weapons. Every attempt to breach the ring they've formed has failed completely. We're planning to mobilize every heavy weapon in our stock and clear out enough to get people in and out the front gate at least."

"What about the natives?"

"We've sent the order. They're mobilizing their entire in-city garrison; it consists roughly of about five thousand men. It'll take them a while to get here, though, and they certainly can't break in. They'll be slaughtered."

The CO turned to his tactical officer.

"How sure are you they'll fight against an invader as technologically advanced as this? Their troops are certain to be armed to the teeth with modern weapons."

"Don't worry, sir. We've got them totally convinced we're divine messengers. They see this as a sort of preordained apocalypse and are prepared to fight to the death. They won't be able to do much but they'll slow the invaders with their numbers, at least."

The commander was impressed.

"How'd you get that sort of devotion?"

"Not hard, sir. We predicted a few natural phenomena like blizzards and eclipses, made a big techno-show with lights and holograms, and helped them establish better irrigation and sanitation systems. They see us as visitors from heaven, here to save them from destruction we 'prophesied'."

"Well, they'd better be able to do hold them off long enough for reinforcements to arrive, or we're all going straight to hell."

Meia stared out the drop pod's single viewing window, trying to breath shallowly so as not to make herself sick from the claustrophobic confines of her helmet and the harsh scent of the recycled air supplied by her respirator. She knew that if she wore this suit long enough, her body would adjust and she'd stop minding the smell, but it seemed it wasn't going to happen soon enough to keep her from pulling the thing off and vomiting. Dita already had. She dearly wished she had one of the familiar Mejele-designed spacesuits they used on the Nirvana. 

More to distract herself than anything else, she turned away from the topsy-turvy view of the planet's surface coming closer and closer, steeling herself as the pod began to rattle violently with the force of reentry. The bright red glow spilling in from the viewing port dimmed as her armor's viewers darkened to help protect her vision, reducing the amount of light that got through.

Her gaze fell briefly on the weapon being carried by the soldier sitting opposite her. It was a gun…a very big, multi-barreled gun. Set upright, it would easily reach past her waist if she stood beside it. An ammunition belt extended from the weapon's breech, connecting it to a cylindrical drum that sat on the floor next to its owner. For it to have such a large ammunition capacity, she wondered what the thing's rate of fire was. Probably incredibly high; the mercenaries seemed to have a very carefree attitude when it came to using ammunition.

She looked back at Sergeant Nefzen. The burly NCO was tapping a finger impatiently on the stock of his rifle, occasionally glancing at the timer that displayed the time remaining before landing in large, green numbers. When it hit two minutes and thirty seconds, he looked back at his squad and its attached guests.

"All right! Listen up. Our job is to baby sit these four. No wandering off anywhere and no engaging hostiles unless in self-defense. We follow after the advanced teams have sent the all clear. All of you got it?"

A chorus of affirmatives rose from the other soldiers. Most seemed bored, and impatient to get their feet on the ground and get moving. Meia knew well that the waiting could easily be the most nerve-racking thing about combat; waiting around before getting into the action, like when she was waiting for the signal to launch, gave people time to think- and worry. Sometimes it was better to be in the middle of the chaos and action of combat; despite the very real fear for your safety, it generally kept you too busy to consider your own mortality.

"Hey! You listening?"

She turned back to Sergeant Nefzen, who was glaring at her.

"I said, you had better follow orders, all right? If you get any of my men killed because of some stupid mistake I'll personally gut you after we get back."

Annoyed, she opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a strong bout of turbulence as the pod activated its thrusters to slow its descent. When the shaking stopped, Nefzen reached out and slapped a control on the cramped pod's ceiling, studying a screen that lit up before sitting back again, apparently forgetting her. Meia was forced to postpone her angry retort when Jura leaned over. The other pilot's voice was quiet, and made strangely unfamiliar by both her words and the harsh, metallic tone the helmet's voice projector gave her.

"Settle down! No point making the big brute angry. If I can lose some of my hair, you can take an insult."

Meia's anger evaporated as she studied the armored form seated beside her. She was almost tempted to pull her helmet off to make sure it was Jura. Before she could reply, though, the ride came to an abrupt stop as the pod finally touched down, shaking her like dice in a cup, even in her seat restraints. When she'd finally settled down, she saw that the other soldiers were all either finishing the task of unstrapping themselves from their seats or were already on their feet, moving to the doorway where the sergeant stood. 

Nefzen hit the door control, and with a hiss and the whine of servos, the doorway unsealed itself and swung open, allowing them to climb out. Once out of the pod, the mercenaries immediately scattered to check the nearby area for hostiles and establish a perimeter, while Nefzen activated his comm. unit and reported a successful landing. After a moment more of speaking to whoever was at the other end, he turned and gestured to another soldier.

"Corporal, break out the map and plot the easiest course to the enemy base."

The man nodded, pulling out a data pad that displayed surveillance data collected by their drones. He tapped rapidly on its tiny keyboard before looking up and nodding.

"All right, let's move out! Cortez, you take point. Everyone else, fan out and keep your eyes open. Stay alert, stay alive!"

As they began tracing the path the corporal had set, Meia glanced at the sergeant out of the corner of her eye.

"How exactly are your forces going to do this?"

"We've dropped a significant number of troops to complete this operation, along with quite a few heavy support batteries and vehicles. The plan is basically advance on their base in a straight push with all units while under cover of every gun we've got."

"You're sure that'll be enough?"

"Valkoris troops have engaged soldiers from at least seven different planetary armies. In every case, a single platoon of our men was able to put out a much greater volume of fire than much larger formations of our opponents, and with better accuracy from longer range. That was good considering we were also outnumbered by a significant margin in every engagement."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Hibiki spoke the question from somewhere behind Meia.

The sergeant grunted in annoyance.

"Since you're too dull to understand, it means that we're pretty sure we've got more guns than they've got guts. This is the kind of operation we excel at- a quick, hard strike to seize an objective before retreating. In this sort of situation a small but highly trained and highly equipped shock force will be a lot more effective than a big, lumbering mass of half-trained conscripts."

"Like your storming the Nirvana?" Meia was aware her voice was cold, but there wasn't much she could do about it. These still were the people who'd attacked the place she called home, even if they were now on the same side.

Nefzen gave her a sideways glance.

"Sort of. That was a good example of our preferred MO."

"Attack by surprise and shoot everything you see?"

"Hey. We only fire at people who're firing at us. What I meant was using a combination of superior firepower and speed to efficiently accomplish a mission objective. If you beat the enemy before they can even start fighting, you win while lessening casualties on _both _sides."

"That's easy to say when you aren't taking the casualties."

"Not our fault you got caught sitting on your asses. Blame yourselves for being easy targets, not us."

"How can you say something like that?" Dita's voice was filled with a combination of repulsion and shock at the mercenary's callousness.

"What, is it tough for you to hear? I'm not here to hold your hand and tell you fairy tales, missy. The universe is a big shithole, and you don't survive through it by closing your eyes, covering your ears, and pretending the bad guys aren't there." 

 "People like you _are _the bad guys." Dita's voice was small.

"Yeah, boo-hoo. I've got a stinkin' pirate telling _me _I'm a bad guy. You'll have to excuse me if I don't take your opinion to heart. Now shut the fuck up and keep going. I'm sick of this philosophy bullshit."

His tone was harsh, but Meia thought she detected a faint hint of self-loathing lacing the anger. His helmet revealed nothing, though.

Somewhere ahead, a massive explosion sounded, throwing up an easily visible plume of smoke. They watched it rise lazily, spreading out over the rest of the city. Nefzen pressed one hand to the side of his helmet, apparently listening to a communication.

"Sounds like the first batteries have opened up. Spotters say the defenses are pretty thick."

"And you're still sure you'll be able to break through?" Hibiki sounded slightly incredulous.

"If massed firepower isn't enough to do the job, that just means we need to use more of it. In this day and age, there ain't no nut too tough to crack…with the right nutcracker."

The sergeant's grim statement almost seemed to hang in the air, spreading ominously like the clouds of smoke as they dashed deeper into the city.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Don't own.

**Author's notes: **Seravy! Nice to see you're still alive.

Chapter 15

"Ready? Fire!"

A moment later, a missile burst from the weapon's muzzle. It hung in midair for a fraction of a second before its thrusters kicked in, propelling it towards the nearest assault pod on a tiny trail of flame and smoke. The two men watched it approach the target gleefully. However, their expectations fell flat when the hissing whine of automated servos signaled the activation of the unmanned bunkers. Almost a dozen of the pods swiveled their 360° weapons turrets around as their motion detectors warned them of the sudden movement. 

A moment later, the missile burst apart in midair as they shredded it with a wave of precision fire. The two Meranos soldiers carrying the missile launcher slumped backwards onto the ground.

"Dammit! We wasted all this time finding their maximum range, and then the distance the missiles have to travel is too far!"

"We're stuck. Half of the heavy weapons in the base are gone." His companion gestured briefly at a gory mess fifty yards away. The pile of shredded clothing and unidentifiable body parts had belonged to another pair of soldiers lugging a missile launcher. They'd made the mistake of getting a bit too close.

"I guess there's nothing to do but get back to the base."

They just finished reporting their failure and were about to get up and trudge back to their headquarters when a loud rumbling noise accentuated by the unhealthy sound of metal grinding against metal stopped them in their tracks.

"What the…"

They both stared at the contraption approaching from the direction of the garrison. It bore a vague resemblance to one of the tractors they routinely used for moving and storing materials and supply crates, except it had a huge number of metal plates of various origins crudely welded on. The thing was so heavy that it required another pair of tractors to push it along towards the base outskirts.

"What the hell's this?"

Another Meranos soldier poked his head out of one of the tractors.

"The new plan. The heavy guns didn't work out like we'd hoped, so now we're going to try use this overloaded monster to soak up fire and hopefully get them to burn up all their ammunition. We haven't seen anything that's not an anti-infantry weapon, so this looks like a good option."

The soldiers watched nervously as the overgrown vehicle was slowly eased closer and closer to the enemy pods. The instant it came into their effective range, they immediately opened fire on the armored tractor. The men winced and recoiled from the racket made by thousands of solid slugs ricocheting from the heavy plating, covering the front armor with scores of dents so packed together that it was hard to tell where one ended and another began. As continued moving deeper, other pods also opened fire, sending washes of laser pulses devil dancing over the vehicle's frame until the armor plating glowed molten from repeated hits. Still, as far as the onlookers could tell, the pods really weren't doing very much damage to it. One of the newly arrived soldiers waved impatiently at the pair of men who'd been carrying the missile launcher.

"What're you waiting for?" He had to shout to be heard over the din. "They're busy! Shoot 'em!"

Both hastily saluted before returning to their previous position. It took them a few seconds to set up before they fired the first missile. It shrieked down amongst the pods, which were all engaged shooting at the tractor, then plowed into the first. There was a brief explosion, followed by a much bigger one as the pod's ammunition supply detonated, hurling the turrets and its top section into the air on a plume of flame. The Meranos soldiers cheered as the heavy weapons team hastily prepared to shoot again.

"Sir! They're taking out the pods!"

"Eh?" Varius stalked over to one of his engineers, who were monitoring the automated units. "What the hell're they doing, shooting at that big thing? Didn't I tell one of you idiots to adjust their target restrictions to human-sized objects or smaller?"

A brief silence was his only answer.

"Dammit, what're you waiting for? Adjust the firing restrictions! And send one of the drones over there to spot for the fire support units. Get that tractor-thingy before it tries to run over one of the pods or something."

"Yes sir!"

The Meranos troops fell silent as the pods ceased firing uselessly at their decoy and instead began to pick off missiles again. They did note, though, that several of the leading weapons platforms appeared to be out of ammunition. None of them were moving of firing any longer, though the ones at the rear still seemed to be capable of shooting. Out of luck, they settled down to wait for orders. None of them noted the small, mechanized drone that zipped around a rooftop to get a clear view of the scene. The machine's AI was programmed like an insect's brain: it flew around very quickly and avoided obstacles and anything that might try to swat it. Normally used for reconnaissance, it had only one part that had any real offensive potential: a special laser that painted targets for artillery or ordnance strikes. Now it moved back into cover behind a building before activating the laser, directing it at the now stationary armored tractor.

 "Hey, what's that sound?"

The soldiers turned around just in time to see their tractor suddenly lurch, bouncing a bit on its suspension as a streaking missile, too fast for them to even register, punched through the machine's roof, making it appear as though a gaping rent had magically appeared in the armor. They didn't even have a moment to process the sight before the vehicle burst apart in a monstrous fireball, sending debris flying in every direction as they hastily took cover. When the flying shards of metal stopped raining on them, they slowly emerged to stare at the guttering remnants of the vehicle. Before they could make any decisions or even speak, though, a second missile, this time anti-infantry, landed almost precisely in the middle of them, sending them flying like rag dolls. When the dust had settled, a storming force of mercenaries emerged from side streets and around buildings, passing unhampered through the automated gun nests before slipping into the base perimeter.

In the Meranos base, meanwhile, everything was in chaos. Artillery had been raining nonstop on their defenses for the past twenty minutes and both their regular infirmary and makeshift field hospital was already crammed full. Coordinated strikes of explosive shells and missiles continued to hammer the base at regular intervals, each volley continually eroding the integrity of their defensive perimeter as well as the morale of the defenders. Already huge swathes of their fences, minefields, guard towers and reinforced walls had been destroyed, leaving large gaps in their security system's ability to monitor anyone coming in or out. The main buildings were a mess; two of the smaller storage depots had already collapsed and the others were being shaken to their foundations. The open ground between the buildings and the perimeter defenses was pockmarked with craters, and no one dared to wander outside. The CO was reduced to pacing around in his operations center, waiting for the next bit of bad news.

"Where in hell is the Minister?"

"Sir, you've got a large body of hostiles approaching your position at six o' clock."

"How many?"

"Several hundred at least. They're poorly armed, though."

"Understood. Thanks for the warning."

Renard Gilchrist turned his head in the direction the reported enemy force was advancing from, raising a pair of field scanners to his eyes. He registered nothing, but under the pall of smoke that had fallen over the city, that wasn't surprising. The mercenary slowly scanned the street, panning his view from side to side while continually twiddling with the dials on the viewer's side, enhancing magnification and focus. It didn't take long before he quickly made out the shapes of a large body of soldiers approaching his field command center

"Corbulo."

"Sir?"

"Get the men ready. We seem to have overextended our hosts' hospitality."

"Yes, sir."

His lieutenant saluted and exited the monitoring station, shouting to other officers and NCOs. Renard continued to scan the enemy force, watching as they came into clear focus. His mouth curled up slightly when he saw the burnished armor, brightly colored shields, and medieval weaponry.

"Damn it, Orlov, 'poorly armed' doesn't extend to swords and pikes!"

"Sorry, sir. Didn't know how to describe it."

"Command section!" The communications headset the mercenary leader wore immediately plugged itself into the frequency being used by the units defending his makeshift operations center.

"Wait for them to get into effective range, then fire a volley right over their heads. Fire support units, if you've got anything that's flashy and makes a lot of noise, add that to the mix. Don't fire on them directly unless I give the order."

A series of short beeps sounded in his earpiece as the unit commanders relayed acknowledgement. Renard lowered the binoculars, watching the now-visible enemy force coming closer and closer, marching with parade-ground precision. A sickening weight settled in his stomach. If they didn't break, it would be a massacre.

"Command section snipers!" A brief beep told him his headset had connected him to the communications frequency used by the snipers assigned to his post; he lost no time relaying his orders.

"After you see the command section fire, keep your eyes open. If you see anyone trying to rally them for a charge, take the bastard out. If they still come at us, kill every officer you can find."

Their acknowledgement tones chimed in his ear, and he slowly massaged his forehead. 

"I hate my job."

Nefzen had called a halt and had moved them into a small intersection of streets, ordering his men to fan out and set up a perimeter. The Nirvana element watched uncomfortably as the mercenary with the chaingun and another soldier forced their way into a two-story building with a commanding view of the open area, smashing a protesting man to the ground before taking vantage points in a pair of windows as the rest of the squad settled in on the ground floor, freely kicking furniture and a display of pots aside to make room for themselves.

Dita slowly made her way to the side of the injured tenant, pulling his head a bit off the ground and wincing under her helmet as she saw his face, which was smeared with blood. Misunderstanding her attempt to help and seeing only the blank visor of her helmet, he flailed violently, breaking loose and splashing blood across both of them from his bleeding mouth. The young pilot tried to calm him down, but recoiled when she saw the obvious fear in his eyes. Before she could get over her shock or say anything, the huge form of Sergeant Nefzen broke between them. He reached down and grabbed the man by the front of his shirt before pulling him to his feet and hauling him to a room in the back. With a mighty heave, the mercenary tossed him through the doorway before slamming the wooden door shut and blocking it with a chair. He turned around to find Dita pulling her helmet off and advancing on him.

"Wait! Why do you have to do that?"

"We're in enemy territory. He's a civilian, but technically he's also a hostile."

"This is his house! You can't just shut him in there. We shouldn't be in here!"

"Shut up already. I'm in charge and I say this house is a good place to hole up until command sends the all clear, and that's final. Someone will let him out eventually." He stormed up to the girl and drove the stiffened fingers of one hand into her sternum, sending the slender redhead reeling backwards into the main room, away from the door.

"Sit down and wait for orders." He turned away, only to find Meia right in front of him, also bareheaded now. Her eyes locked onto his visor.

"Don't touch her, or anyone else from the Nirvana again, do you understand?" Her grim tone had no room for compromise, and he could plainly see that she was ready to duke it out with him if he didn't agree.

"If you don't want me to have to get them in line, do it yourself. I'm in charge here, and your bunch WILL do what I tell them. Get it?"

The blue-haired Dread pilot restrained herself with difficulty.

"When this is over, I am going to beat you to an inch of your life."

"You're welcome to try." The sergeant deliberately turned away and marched back to the rest of his men, who'd been watching every move intently. Meia allowed herself to relax a fraction of an inch before letting her gaze roam to Dita, who was sitting gloomily beside Hibiki, then to Jura, who was uncharacteristically silent in her own little corner.

_The world's gone crazy…_


End file.
